


The Watcher

by lollercakes



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Hijack, Memories, Memory Alteration, Mildly Dubious Consent, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 80,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollercakes/pseuds/lollercakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta is rescued seemingly without harm from the Capitol, but sometimes the deepest wounds are the ones you can't see and the memories you don't have anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I’m not quite sure who she is, but she’s looking at me as though she knows me. Like she can see into my soul.

It’s unnerving, the way she stares at me.

I’m currently locked up in the psychotic ward of District 13’s medical bay. They didn’t have any other beds left in the trauma center so they put me here instead.

Okay, maybe they put me here because they suspect I’ll flip off the edge and go batshit like Johanna did when we arrived and Haymitch tackled her, bottle in hand, to the floor of the entry room. I can’t blame her; I wouldn’t want to be wrapped up in those foul liquored arms any more than she did. She had every right to toss him loose and break his nose.

When they sent me here with my hands cuffed, I tried not to take it personally. None of them really knew what we’d been through in the Capitol and my memories were a little foggy themselves. But I’m trying to make sense of them now as I sit here strapped into this medical bed with this strange girl with dark skin peering at me through the glass.

I really wish she’d stop.

It’s been a couple of days since my return and every so often she’ll disappear from the view. I sleep then, comforted in the fact that I won’t be watched. I’m tired of being watched. She’s always there again when I wake up.

On the fifth day I see her scuttle away like the crabs I saw in District 4 as the door is pushed open and a young girl, barely older than 13, enters the room to check my vitals. She’s given orders not to release my restraints.

“Hello Peeta, how are you?” She knows who I am. Who is this girl?

“I’m okay, I guess.” There’s no reason to be rude to her, she’s not the one watching me all day.

“Good, that’s very good. My name is Primrose and I’m going to check some things – is that alright?” Her voice is airy as her fingers flutter over my skin. I nod, flicking my eyes between this blonde haired child and the dark beauty in the window.

Oh, she’s a beauty now? I check over my own mental state for a moment.  

“Prim,” I take liberties shorting her name because it feels right, “Do you...Do you know who she is?” My finger lifts and points towards the door where the girl outside immediately widens her eyes and disappears again. I try to mask my disappointment that she’s gone, instead looking up to watch the changing expressions on the young girl’s face.

“Oh,” She gasps quietly, looking over her shoulder while her fingers brush over my IV. “You don’t recognize her?”

Should I? I don’t want to ask.

“No. I don’t.” My words are stiff and it feels wrong to admit it. We let the silence stretch out for a moment too long before Prim bids farewell and heads out the door. When it swings open, the girl who’s been watching me is no longer there.

I miss her already.

 

 

 

She’s back again two days later, her absence noticeable in my state of intolerable boredom. Haymitch has stopped by every now in then, prompting questions that get me nowhere. He asks about the Games, about the Capitol, about home, but none of it answers any of the questions I have for myself.

I feel like I’m missing something. I can see it in his eyes.

When she reappears in the window, I know she’s not alone this time. Her eyes are puffy with bags underneath and it’s easy to see that she’s been missing sleep. Who is this mystery girl that watches?

When another face appears in the window, this one far more recognizable, I try not to scowl. Finnick Odair – what is he doing here? Why is he with her?

What’s going on?

I don’t know why but I’m jealous of him with this girl. I’ve made up such stories in my head, such imaginations that she’s more to me than just a stranger, and now I think I’m even beginning to convince myself that she’s everything I’ve made her out to be.

I try to contain my utter grief (the kind that doesn’t make sense when you have absolutely no ground to stand on) when I watch him lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head. I watch her small smile and I wish she would smile for me.

I really must have gone crazy.

 

 

 

“Who are you?” I shout it out loud today. I’m tired of watching and being watched. Tired of not knowing who she is and why she’s here. Mostly I’m just tired of not knowing her. There’s something in her eyes, the way she stands so calm and filled with sorrow, that draws me to her.  

She startles almost immediately as though torn out of her dream. Her eyes look panicked and I can see the tears behind them that she refuses to let fall. I don’t understand – did I cause her pain? She turns to leave and I call out again for her, my shout strangled in my lungs.

“Please don’t!” Above the beeping of the machine strapped to my pulse I hear her back hit the door with a thump. She’s still there but she’s no longer watching. “Just tell me who you are, that’s all I ask.”

Another unfamiliar face fills the window then and it’s angry. What did I do?  It disappears for a moment before I see the figure through the glass lift up the girl and carry her off.

I feel like I’ve just lost something very important to me.

 

 

 

I feel the eyes before I wake. I can sense someone else is in the room with me. I don’t want to wake up – I don’t want to be punished again. I stay still, my eyes falsely shut with sleep as the machines continue their steady hum.

I can’t pretend any more when I feel the fingers on my forehead, brushing against my skin and into my hair. I snap my eyes open and wrench my body upwards against the restraints holding my arms. The hand that was once on me is withdrawn with a snap and I look over to meet her haunting gaze.

I can’t say a word. My mouth is dry. She’s beautiful and heartbreaking and I wish I weren’t restrained because all the stories in my head just make me want to pull her close and breathe a sigh of relief that she’s here with me.

“Peeta,” Her words are a whisper next to me. I watch her eyes glow in the light of the machines as the room remains dark.

“Have you come to kill me?” I feel vulnerable, strapped here to this bed as she lurks in the shadows. I can hear her inhale sharply at my words.

“You really have no idea who I am?” It sounds pained and I’m sure I’m not the only one in this room who feels their chest tightening with despair. I am probably the only one who doesn’t know why, though.

“No. I want to, but I don’t think I remember you. Should I?” When she nods sadly I wish I hadn’t asked. I don’t remember a lick of this girl from before my time in the Capitol and it’s killing me. I want to know her. I need to.

She stands to leave and I feel my opportunity slipping through my fingers.

“I want to know who you are. I do.” I try to make my words convey my desperation but they must fall short. She’s still walking away from me. “Please, don’t go. Stay.” I’m begging but she doesn’t turn around.

“It’s probably best you don’t remember me, Peeta Mellark. You’re more likely to stay alive that way.”

And then she’s gone and I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

 

 

 

She doesn’t come back again. When I’m released she’s nowhere to be found and no one will tell me where she is. I’m starting to think she was just a ghost who came to see me home. That’s what I have to keep telling myself anyways because the alternative – that I’ve lost something so precious – is just unbearable.


	2. Chapter 2

I’m in the cafeteria for lunch when I finally see her again. No, she’s not here in front of me. She’s there, on the television, playing out the propo that District 13 has released once again onto the national broadcast system. I still don’t know how they do it, but every so often they break into the closed channels and overtake the Capitol’s highly secured line to the people.

I almost choke on my stew as she shouts about burning and the rebellion and eternal salvation that only comes from joining the fight. It’s magnificent and enthralling and I can see why she’s the center of it all.

When it ends, I’m even more confused by the way that I feel and the happenings of those weary days in the ward. I can’t draw the parallel between that woman on the television and the fragile girl who watched me for days. They are of the same body, but there is no trace of them being the same person. Not in my stories, at least. It doesn’t make sense.

 I turn carefully to the stranger next to me, surely preparing to look foolish.

“Who is that?” I motion to the now dim set in the ceiling corner and implore this woman to tell me more. She scoffs and looks down at her schedule on her forearm.

“Have you been living under a rock? That’s Katniss Everdeen. Victor of the 74th and final Hunger Games.” The woman huffs out angrily and stands with her tray. She leaves without another word and I’m left to this moment on my own.

Victor of 74? But that’s the Games I’m Victor for, isn’t it? _Isn’t it_?

I am quite seriously losing my shit as I sit here, my eyes frozen on the TV that lies dim in the corner. Lunch has been signalled to end and those around me seem to disperse with an unusual speed. I don’t move, paralyzed by the confusing thoughts that are filling my brain.

We couldn’t _both_ be Victor’s. What was that woman getting at? Maybe she got the number wrong. Maybe she didn’t know who I was. Maybe, maybe, maybe. So many maybe’s. I lift myself to my feet, making for the doors before a guard yells at me to return my tray. I’m startled at his voice and jump, rushing back to grab my discarded items and placing them in the return.

When I’m finally free of the confines of the room I make my way to my solitary cage, a gift for the crazy of District 13, and lock myself in.

It’s here in this room where I turn everything over.

I was supposed to know her. That’s what she implied when she visited me. I’m supposed to know her well. Haymitch won’t tell me but I know that there’s more to this than just the strange occurrences that are all connecting together.

I can’t help but wonder if perhaps there’s even more between myself and the girl named Katniss Everdeen.

I resolve to know it – to search it out and find the answers because this feeling that grows in my gut (the one that tells me that I need her here with me) is not being quelled by the cautious actions of the doctors or the nurses.

I may not have all my memories, but I sure have stories, and if any of this is supposed to connect then maybe those stories aren’t even stories. Maybe they’re really memories.

Maybe I really, actually, truly, loved, Katniss Everdeen the Mockingjay and the girl who was going to save Panem or have it burn to the ground.

 

 

I spend the next few days abandoning the schedule that’s intoned in my flesh each morning. I don’t care for the time slots or the classes or soldier duty – all I really care about is putting the puzzle pieces together and having it all make sense.

Instead I sit in my room – my locked room – and write down every little bit that I’ve made up about the girl who watches me. There are pages, journals, full of my musings. If I weren’t so determined to figure it out, I’d think I had an unhealthy obsession.

On the fifth day I hear Haymitch at my door. It’s the first time that he’s ever come looking for me, at least since I got out, and it doesn’t bode well in my stomach. I try to ignore his rapping knuckles, pretending that I’m not here, but he doesn’t give up.

“Boy, come out, come out, from in there. I know you’re there.” I open the door to his raised fist, preparing to knock again. He looks at me, his eyes startled by my disheveled appearance. “Well Peeta, glad to see you’re giving off that ‘sane’ appearance.” He pushes past me into my room and kicks the door closed behind him.

I turn and watch him sit on my bed, shoving my carefully arranged papers around into an unorganized mess. I’m tempted to yell at him for ruining my system but realize that it’ll just make me appear even more unhinged than the hundreds of papers already do.

“Can I help you?” I try to keep it pleasant but it comes out more as a bite. His eyebrows rise slightly at me and he picks up one of the papers and begins to read. My fingers twitch slightly, longing to grasp it from him.

“What is all this, Peeta?” He doesn’t look up from the paper, reading it all the way to the end.

It’s a story from so long ago, one where we were just children at school in history class together. I thought about her braids in that story.

“Just stories. I got bored.” I try to disguise the obvious fact that they’re all about Katniss. Maybe he won’t notice. I don’t remember her name in that one.

Shit.

I watch as he picks up another one from the floor. This one is more recent, of us joking about frosting. The stories had seemed so real.

“Where did you get the ideas?” He pushes, looking up to meet my eyes then. I shrug, not willing to give away what could make me sound insane. “Hey,” he insists, kicking out his foot lazily. “Peeta, where did you get the ideas?”

I feel the rage in me then, bubbling up from inside and pushing into my brain. If there is any proof to my theory he wouldn’t be asking me this. He’d be realizing that I was figuring it out. I _am_ crazy – this proves it. I thrash out against my desk, shoving my token from the Arena to the ground and stomping on its gentle form.

The ribbon sits there, crushed under the sole of my shoe.

That didn’t feel good. It actually hurt.

I see the old man stir in the corner of my eye.

“They were in my head. I thought they were real.” I feel downtrodden as I admit it, certain that he’ll be taking me to the loony ward again for more treatment. He doesn’t move though and I look to him then, meeting his questioning gaze.

“So you remember then?” His words are almost too soft to pick up amongst the hum of the ventilation system. My eyes narrow. What is he not telling me?

“I don’t know what I know, Haymitch. Why don’t you fill me in?” I lean back against the wall as he stands unsteadily on his feet. He makes towards the door and I grab for his arm. I need to know. Need to. “Tell me!” I shout, but he shakes me loose.

“I need to make a call. Stay here.” With that, he leaves and slams my own bedroom door in my face.

I want to set fire to the papers.

 

 

I don’t stay and wait for him to return. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My palms are itchy and my feet need to walk so they carry me out and into the dead hallway where I head unaware to the infirmary. I don’t know why I’m here exactly until I see her – the little nurse who seemed to take my lack of memory almost personally.

I wait until she finishes tending to the patient who lay in the bed before her. When she bids him farewell I approach quickly, my steps heavy and giving me away. She whips around to face me, surprise evident on her features as she takes a step back.

“Prim,” I nod, and she tries to smile but it’s tight and anxious. I’m making her nervous though I don’t mean to. I retreat a few paces back and try to ease the tension in my brow.

“Peeta, what are you doing here?” Her voice is breathy and weak as she turns and heads into what looks to be an empty office. I follow, picking up that she wants to keep this between us.

“Who’s Katniss Everdeen?” My words shock her and she turns to me, wide eyed. Her mouth moves but no words come out and I have the urge to just shake it out of her. I don’t.

“Have you been taking your medicine?” She asks instead, not providing me with the answers I want. She cocks her head to the side and looks me over carefully. Surely my hair is a frazzled mess and I look a bit unruly. Maybe I am crazy.

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

“And that’s not an answer to mine.” She replies. I feel like we could get lost in semantics or she could just tell me what I want to know.

“Prim, please. _Please_. Can you just tell me what’s going on? Why won’t anyone tell me anything?”

I don’t hear the shuffle of feet behind me over the beeping and the whooshing of the air in the vents so I’m surprised when I feel hands grabbing my arms and a needle sliding home into my skin. I feel light as I sink down, my eyes never leaving Prim’s concerned gaze.

“I’m sorry Peeta, but we need to make sure you’re all better.” She’s crouching down in front of me as I slowly slip into darkness.   




 

 

When I wake up I’m not in my room anymore. I’m strapped once again to the gurney that holds me in place. Back where it all started only this time there’s no girl watching me through the glass.

Haymitch comes to me late in the day (at least what I think is late in the day – there’s no sun to tell me better). He sits at my bedside and though I long to wrap my fingers around his throat, I can’t. I stare daggers at him instead hoping to convey my sense of betrayal and the overwhelming rage that I’m feeling.

“What the hell is going on?” I nearly yell, my voice echoing off the dead cement walls. He sits still in his chair, his eyes watching every twitch of my fingers. When he leans forward I snap and try to break free, my wrists pulling at the restraints.

“Just as I thought.” He mutters, sitting back and folding his palms in his lap.

“And what _exactly_ was it that you thought, Haymitch?” I spit. I want to actually spit on him, but I refrain.

“That you weren’t as dandy as everyone thought you were. The Capitol’s done something but I’m not quite sure of what it is just yet.” It doesn’t make sense, whatever he’s saying. I’m still angry.

“What do you mean?” I figure if he’s talking, it’s better to keep him going so I can get as much information as I possibly can.

“I mean, kid, that when Johanna came back she wasn’t the same. I knew something was off with you. They tried to hide it with the memory loss – but there’s something else.” So they were really memories? I suddenly want only for Katniss to be here, to be with me. The feeling of need for her overwhelms me and I gasp for air until Haymitch is pressing a button and a drug is filtering in through the tube in my arm.

“Better?” He asks as my body begins to relax. I feel light and calmer. It is better – I nod in reply. “We just need to keep you monitored for a while, until we can find your trigger. Then we can treat you.”

He stands to leave and I try to fight the heaviness in my eyelids.

“And Katniss?” I ask as his hand rests on the doorknob. His voice is gruff in response.

“Try to get over her.”

 

 

I’m no longer strapped down when I wake up again. I’m given free reign – at least around my room. My hands can’t jiggle free the lock on the door and so I’m trapped still, but at least no longer stuck in the bed. It’s a small victory.

Over the past few days they’ve been filling the room with supplies for my ‘future testing’. The phrase has been ominous but I try not to think of it that way, especially when I see them rolling in a TV and some painting supplies. None of it makes much sense but I don’t protest – since when have TV or painting ever been torturous?

It’s not until the hallway and my room are dark that I take notice of the sounds surrounding me. They put me on edge before I even recognize them as the noises of an insane Johanna just down the hall. She’s screaming bloody murder, just as she had in the Capitol holding cells back when we were at their mercy.

I try to block it out but it still gets in, getting under my skin and raising my flesh with goose bumps. I want to help her, to call out and tell her she’s not alone, but I know she won’t hear it and even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to focus. In those screams I know she’s too far gone to be salvaged right now.

That’s something you learn about the sound of other people’s screams.

I roll over in my bed, pulling the pillows against my ears as I try to block it out. If I weren’t already crazy, her terror would sure push me that way. Hell, maybe they’re intending to make me crazy just so that I won’t ruin their plans.

Suddenly, District 13 doesn’t seem so appealing anymore.

 

 

“And when you think of the Capitol, what do you think about?” This doctor and his inane questions are grating on my last nerve. They’ve strapped me back into bed for him to come in here and prod me with stupid anecdotes and ridiculous probing questions.

I don’t think any of us are getting what we intended from this session. I look away from his questioning gaze as I answer.

“I think about the Games. About white walls and a feeling of burning in my skin. I don’t remember much of the Capitol. Just that it makes me itch.”

I remember clear as day, though I’d never share it, the way that the nurses had probed me for more than just strategies of the rebellion. They’d taken everything from me, stripped me bare and forced themselves on me. All the while pumping my body full of drugs that burned the inside and made me feel lightheaded.

“How much do you remember about the Games?” I feel my fists clench, my nails dig into my palms, as he brings it up.

“All I remember is winning, I told you this. I remember the ladder coming down and then my body freezing and then waking up in the Capitol. I don’t remember anything else.” And I don’t. I remember winning 74 and then being whisked away for treatment and whatever else they call it. I don’t even remember the Victory Tour, though they showed me footage in the Capitol.

“Alright, Peeta. I think that’s been enough for today. How about we try some more tomorrow?” The doctor stands and moves towards the door. If I wasn’t strapped down, God help him.

“Wait!” I shout, the man turns to look at me over his half-moon glasses. “What am I missing?” I know I’m missing something that they’re not telling me. Haymitch keeps saying that they’re trying to let me get there on my own, but with each day all I get is more frustrated. I hear the doctor sigh, his hand turning the knob.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replies, and then he’s gone and my straps come undone and I’m free once again to pace my new cage.

 

 

“How do you know who Johanna Mason is?” This is a new doctor. One that lets me sit without restraints as long as I don’t get out of bed. He’s not like the other ones and I can’t exactly put my finger on why.

“What kind of question is that?” I ask in return – and I’m being honest. It’s a stupid question. I know her because I... Know her.

Okay, so what if there’s some holes in my memories. So what.

“When did you first know who she was? When can you remember placing a name to her face?”

I have to think back for that one. In all honesty, the screams down the hall have just always _been_ Johanna Mason. I don’t really remember meeting her, not face to face. At least not until being brought here.

The thoughts have my brain turning over in circles trying to piece the puzzle together. It’s troubling and confusing and I don’t want to answer.

“I don’t know.” I reply in a non-committal manner. I feel his stare on me and I dare him to ask another inane question.

“What if I said, Peeta, that you don’t _know_ Johanna Mason?”

“I’d say you were a liar. Of course I know her. She screams all night.” I’m growing more frustrated now with every poke and prod.

“Okay. Tell me about the first time you understood that she was Johanna.”

“A guard must have mentioned it – what does this have to do with anything anyways? Why does this matter?” I toss the glass from my side table across the room and watch it shatter. The doctor raises his eyebrows and I shrug.

“Peeta, I need you to focus. I need you to tell me how you know her.”

I don’t have patience anymore for this. Swinging my legs over the bed I put my feet on the floor. He’s up and out the door before I even get a chance to step towards him. Good. Stay gone.

I return to my spot on the mattress and lay back, the anger and frustration a mere memory from my consciousness. It’s weird, the way my emotions click around so quickly. I try not to think about it.  


	3. Chapter 3

“What is your favourite colour, Peeta?”

The doctor sits in the chair at my bedside and continues reading through his checklist of questions. He hasn’t even looked at me – not once, since entering the room and taking a seat. We’re on question number 23.

I’m strapped down again for this meeting, contained to my bed where I’m starting to develop rough skin under these leather restraints.

I just want to go home. Back to 12. Back to my old life.

“Orange. It’s orange.” I mumble and he records it down onto the sheet, just as he has with the previous 22. I try not to sigh when he opens his mouth to start speaking again, this time watching me closely.

“Do you remember the female Tribute for District 12 in the 74th Hunger Games?” My fists clench into balls and I rear up, my body fighting with a fury to shake loose from these containments. I feel the bed rocking below me and can only think of a mining explosion, one that’s coming up from the depths to take me under.

Images in my mind go fuzzy until all I can see, taste, smell, is the sulphur rising up from the sinkhole that I remember as a kid – the one that killed so many citizens of 12.

The bed continues to shake and I’m brought back to the present with the realization that the bed is shaking because of _me_. It nearly topples over under my shifting weight as the doctor looks on from his secure spot across the room. I grit my teeth and look at him, daring him to get closer.

“What?” I growl and the man smiles. He actually smiles at me.

There’s a coursing rage through my body as he exits the room, leaving me to my fury and my thrumming blood pressure.

It’s another half hour before another doctor joins me, the same one who once let me sit without restraints.

He doesn’t offer that option this time.

“Peeta, do you remember who tended to your leg before you lost it?” The blood in my veins pulses faster and my mind races, recalling the blood and gore that flooded the Arena when Cato ran his sword through my flesh.

“Nobody tended to it – that’s why I lost it, you fool.” I shift my hands against the leather and I can feel the skin rolling away in clumps underneath. I’ll be even bloodier for sure.

The doctor steps towards me, now within a few feet of my bedside. I could reach him if only I weren’t strapped down.

“No, there was a girl. She helped you. She was the other Tribute from your District.”

“ _There was no other Tribute_ ,” If words could kill that’s what they’d be doing. I can’t even contain the way my whole body convulses. There’s no stopping the memory of my mother’s broom handle colliding with my ribs and breaking them.

I remember that day – I couldn’t work for a month during our busiest season. I’d wanted to kill her that day.

And it’s the same feeling today. I want to kill them all. To destroy District 13 – everyone in it. They are my torturers and my prison guards.

“Peeta!” The man is grasping my chin tight in his hand now, pulling my face towards him as I struggle to get away. It’s useless to even try but my body wrenches and fights. “What are you thinking about, right now?”

His voice is urgent and forceful. When I look into his eyes, the intensity is smothering. I try to remember what I’m seeing, what I’m feeling.

“My mother. Swords. The mine.” I gasp and each word, each syllable, rips from my lips though my mouth does not want to participate in this game. I feel my teeth bite into my tongue and then the blood filling my mouth as my body refuses to play. It’s swelling in my mouth and my teeth finally let go, red saliva leaking from the corner of my lips.

“Fear Peeta. You’re experiencing fear.” The way he says it, so matter of fact, instantly runs into my bones and seizes my muscles. I’m taken under by flashes behind my eyes and a smothering feeling of losing my breath. My body starts to thrash without control and my head hurts, pounding with the lights and screams of the machine that surround me.

 

 

When I wake up, I’m not alone. There’s a woman at my bedside and she’s sipping a glass of water in silence.

“What happened?” I know my words are messy in my mouth because my tongue is twice its normal size. I struggle to keep the spit contained as I realize that they’ve numbed me considerably while I was unconscious.

The woman startles at my words, setting the glass down on the table with nearly shaking hands. When she turns to face me, there’s a mask over her features that reeks of professional demeanour.

“You had a seizure, Peeta. How do you feel now?” Her words are measured, careful in the way they avoid saying what _actually_ happened.

They pushed me over the edge. Tortured me until I talked.

“I feel like my brother hit me with a bag of flour,” I mumble out, choosing to consciously keep under control. 

Though I’m not sure I should – I don’t trust anyone here.

Not even Haymitch.

“That will pass. Do you need any more morphling?” I shake my head no and the motion makes me feel nauseous. Instantly, bile rises from my gut and spills from my numb mouth before I can stop it. I’m pathetic, broken _and_ crazy.

The woman rises from her seat and carefully steps towards a cupboard I didn’t know I had, one filled with a dozen sweat suit outfits that all look the same and dreary. She pulls one loose and returns to my side, ordering the strap for my left hand undone as she slips the shirt over half of my body.

Using the sleeve of my now soiled top, she wipes at the mess on my chin with such tenderness that I want to fall apart. I don’t. Instead I continue to stare at her, begging myself to realize why I recognize her.

Before she replaces my hand in the strap she pulls half of the new shirt over my body and runs her fingers across my violent red wrists. I have to bite my lip to hide the hiss of pain I will not let escape as her skin burns across my flesh.

“They’ve really done a number on you, haven’t they?” She looks at me carefully as her hand gently wraps mine around the steel bed frame to allow the strap to return.

“This place is the worst.” I confirm as she shuffles to the other side of the bed, releasing my right hand and repeating the motions while pulling my new clean shirt down. I can see a frown on her lips as she focuses on my palm.

“We didn’t do this to you – the Capitol did. Don’t get it confused.” She states as her fingers softly ghost over my red skin. This time, when she guides my hand to the cool steel it isn’t light – I’m gripping it for dear life as the strap returns.

“It’s no better here – being strapped to this bed while you test me. Can’t you see that? That’s what they did in the Capitol. You’re just the same. All of you!” I end off shouting before I even realize that she’s backing towards the door.

I’ve inadvertently scared off this gentle woman – the one who bothered to take note of my wounds.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, my gaze casting down towards my fresh shirt. “It’s just – It’s true. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. So you can get better.” She abandons her plan of escape and instead sidles back up to my bedside, brushing my bangs from my forehead in a very familiar way. I can’t help but squint my eyes at her, trying to recognize what I know is somewhere in my mind. “We all know what a wordsmith you are. How brave and kind you are. We want him back. That’s all.”

Her hand drops from my face and she heads for the door, finally leaving me to my own troubled thoughts.

 

 

They’re letting me sit without my restraints today. Maybe they figure they have power in numbers – especially since there are about ten doctors in my cramped room with Haymitch leading the way. He sits heavily in the chair next to me, his body stiff and... Clean? He smells like soap, not liquor, and that’s a first.

Ever since he fell off the stage at the Reaping, he’s had an aroma of liquor and fresh vomit.

This gathering must be incredibly important.

“We believe that we’ve figured out what is going on with you, Mr Mellark.” The first doctor states, looking around the room to approving nods and smiles. I can’t help but feel that they all seem very full of themselves with this accomplishment. It’s really too bad that I’m the one fucked up here.

“And?” I insist, looking to Haymitch who doesn’t quite meet my eye. He’s been the only person I could nearly trust since I was Reaped and since coming here, he’s only made me doubt him. I need him to come through for me right now.

“We think it’s a form of submersed reinforced memory protection.” Another doctor pipes up; I raise a brow at him.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“The Capitol has stomped down particular memories and replaced them instead with selected instances of fear. Well, not quite ‘replaced’ but targeted.” He continues as a smile grows on his lips. I still don’t understand what they’re saying – What did I forget? What?

“Peeta,” Haymitch looks at me clearly then for the first time, his steady gaze holding mine as he grips the arm rests. “We can’t tell you what you’ve forgotten – it triggers adrenaline and fear in your brain which causes your body to reject it. We can’t help you remember what happened without solving the end result first.”

I understand it, but just barely. They can’t help me? Then what has been the goddamn _point_? I rub my fingers forcefully against my temples, trying to push out the headache that’s building. This is all far too much. The Capitol did this? But I’m _fine_.

“What needs to happen is that you need to organically repair your memories. If they can be salvaged, that is.” Another doctor is speaking now, from the back of the room. It’s the one who made me sick last time.

I hate him the most.

He steps forward towards me, reaching out a hand which I don’t accept.

“I’m Dr Aurelius. I’m going to help you control unpredicted trigger activity.” I look at Haymitch with a scowl, begging him silently to jump in here anytime and get me out of here.

“You need it, boy. We can’t let you out into genpop without first getting it under control. Remember when I found you in your room? That episode should have been a trigger but we think it was a warning.” I cock an eyebrow at him, surprised with his knowledge. The woman from before calls out from her spot in the back but the men don’t clear the way for her to step forward. I can’t help but think it rude – she’s just as willing to help as they are, though she doesn’t seem to gloat over it.

“It’s like an allergy – before, it was a sensitivity. Do you remember your heart racing when people asked you about the Games? Or the mood swings? Your body was trying to defend against it but now it’s turned into a full blown instance. Like your brain is allergic to recall.” Her explanation finally begins to make sense of the whole thing.

It seems preposterous. How would they even do that? How do they target something so finite and replace it with something so broad?

“What did I forget?” It’s barely a whisper but everyone in the room hears it because I see their eyes drop or lose their sparkle of excitement. The excitement that was caused by finding the last puzzle piece.

“We can’t tell you without causing another episode and that’s too risky now for your mind. Your brain seems to haywire when we talk to you about it.” The woman replies. I still don’t know her name.

When the silence seems to drag out for a little longer than expected, the doctors slowly start to depart, one at a time until it’s only Aurelius, the woman, Haymitch and myself.

“So you’re my crack medical team?” I ask tentatively, doubtfully even.

“Guess we are, kid.” Haymitch stands on unsteady feet and I finally notice his hands shaking. When did he last have a drink?

I look to the woman who stands with a comforting hand on my shoulder and watch her.

“Who _are_ you?” When she looks back at me, I’m struck by the intensity in her eyes and the way she meets me head on.

“I’m Lily. I’m a nurse here in the ward. You’ve likely met my daughter, Primrose? And I knew your father, back home.” She squeezes my shoulder comfortingly and I look to Haymitch who nods in agreement, all the while his eyes staring carefully at Lily.

“Alright.” I move my legs off the bed and make to stand. Despite being a bit wobbly, I make it across the room and turn the handle. It’s locked. I look back at the group with a confused look. “I don’t get to leave – do I?”

“Not just yet. We have a couple things to work on first. When would you like to start?” Aurelius asks as I make my way back to the bed. Settling in on the uncomfortable mattress I lean back and try to run through everything I’ve had to take in this afternoon.

I want my memories back.

I want my life back.

“Let’s start right now,” I reply and all three faces break out into strained smiles.

This won’t be easy. This won’t be quick. 

It better work.


	4. Chapter 4

“Can 74 be divided by a quarter, Peeta?”

It’s been three weeks since I’ve been stuck in this room, answering these questions and then being knocked out or drugged before my rage can get a hold of me. They say I’m getting better, they say that my vitals are improving and that soon I’ll be able to control my body’s reactions.

I think they’re bullshitting me. I’m not getting better and I sure as hell am no closer to controlling my reactive seizures than I was when they first figured out what was wrong with me.

I’m never going to get out of here.

I look back at Aurelius and consider his question carefully.

“No. Why?” I almost don’t ask why – he rarely ever answers or breaks from his prepared script.

“Because a Quarter Quell, as you acknowledged last week, is the only type of Games that change the rules and allow different Tributes to be selected. Would you agree?”

I try not to stumble over actually receiving a response to my question. That does make sense.

“Yes. Okay.” I mutter and then I find the loophole in his plan. “But if Quarter Quell’s are the only change in rules, how did two of us survive 74 then, if that’s the truth? Hmm?”  I watch as Aurelius nods his head, taking a moment to ponder my reply.

“That’s a fair question. How do I say this without...” He dissolves into mumbles as he for the first time ever deviates from his papers before him. When he finally thinks he’s got it, he looks up at me above his glasses and holds up his index finger. “Peeta, I want you to breathe deeply with me now.”

I do as he says, leaning back and practicing my relaxation tools. We’ve been doing this for the past while, getting close to unknown subjects and then taking a moment to relax before he triggers me.

There’s a new feeling in my blood today though, I notice, when I look over to the machine at my bedside. It’s pumping a clear fluid through its wires and into my veins. And I feel like I’m floating, high above the room.

“What if I were to say that the rules were broken for something so small as _love_?” Aurelius asks, his voice fluctuating with a wobble. I feel my lips turn up at the thought. The Games – changed for love? Ha! Those poor bastards.

Oh. I am one of those bastards.

Oh. Katniss Everdeen won 74.

Oh. Oh dammit.

I feel my body fighting the drugs in my system. My heart struggles to pump blood and adrenaline through my body and my hands are heavy as I clutch them to my ever tightening chest. My torso rolls over, pulling my knees up and curling in on itself as it fights to be angry while being subdued by whatever they’ve put in these tubes.

“This hurts. This _hurts_.” I groan because it does. My body is clenched so tightly and I can barely breathe through the pain that pulls me under.

This isn’t the same as the seizures. This is so very different. I don’t know if it’s the combination of the drugs and the fear or a whole new reaction that they’ll need to evaluate. I can’t think about it.

“Peeta,” A female voice rings at my side and I can barely open my eyes to see Lily adjusting the dials on the machines beside me. Aurelius is still sitting in his chair, scribbling notes furiously. Slowly but surely, my body begins to relax its muscle systems. I’m finally able to release my knees from my chest and roll onto my back. There’s still fear coursing through me – I’m not comfortable by any means – but the tension of the last few minutes has been reduced significantly.

“How do you feel?” Aurelius asks and I close my eyes to avoid Lily’s concerned gaze.

“Like I was tackled by a bear.” I mumble and my fingers scratch roughly at my chest. My skin itches and burns. These medicines will be my torture in the end. The Capitol has nothing on these drugs.

“What did you realize that triggered that?” I open my eyes to meet his and I can’t help but notice that Lily seems to scoot from the room again without looking at me. Aurelius snaps his fingers to draw my attention back from Lily’s departing figure.

“Two of us won. They thought we were in love. Katniss. That’s preposterous!” I nearly yell, and _there’s_ the full rage that I knew was coming my way. The fear begins to take over and it’s a memory of the mutts chasing me down and grabbing at me, tearing bits from my sides.

I don’t know how long I spend withering in my own suffering before I pass out.

When I wake up an indeterminate time later, Haymitch is snoozing in the chair beside my bed. I watch him carefully from the fetal position I’ve woken up in on my bed, my eyes scouring over the wrinkles in his face and the steady frown that seems to line his brow. This man does not look content, even in sleep. He looks miserable.

I watch him for about an hour, before his snoring lulls me back into a fragile sleep.

 

 

Today we’re watching TV. Some dribble of heartbreaking drama that I think I used to watch as a kid, but I can’t quite be sure. It’s as though I know I did, but I doubt even that memory in the face of all the others I seem to have lost in the aftershocks of the Games.

Haymitch has joined us today for my session and it doesn’t take long for his distracted fidgeting to catch up to my fragile nerves and push me over the edge.

“Would you _stop_ that?” I nearly shout and I see out of the corner of my eye Aurelius and Haymitch bolt up in their chairs and snap their heads towards me.

“Is everything alright?” Aurelius asks and reaches carefully for his notebook that he’s abandoned since we started with the TV. I shrug imperceptibly and tap my fingers on my knees.

I’m so tired of being cooped up here. I want to go out. I want to be _free_ and walk more than the edges of my cage.

I turn my attention back on the TV and ignore Haymitch’s piercing look. We continue to watch the screen and its images flicker before us, shifting from one scene to the next without really telling a story. It all seems garbled and I begin to question how this show even made it onto TV – the story sucks and the characters are even more ridiculous in their garish costumes.

“Is that Caesar Flickerman?” I can’t help but ask when the screen flashes with scenes of the Capitol’s main man with his back towards us. I can only decipher his presence by the blue attire and hair.

“Yes, it is. Do you recognize anything else from the show?” Aurelius asks lazily, his fingers I can see are itching to write something.

“Not really. It’s familiar but I think I just saw it when I was a kid or something.” I mumble in return. Haymitch and Aurelius exchange a look and their silence drags on for a moment too long. “Am I supposed to recognize it?” I ask, my brow rising in question.

Haymitch turns towards me and looks me over from head to toe, his gaze gauging my mood.

“Yes, kid, you should.” He reaches for the remote and rewinds to part of the episode where the cast is on the beach in District 4, watching the sunset. Their backs are all turned to the cameras.

Maybe that’s what’s unsettling – we never actually get to meet the characters. Everyone is just a passing phase. I watch the images flicker on as two figures kiss in the fading light. I’m not going to lie, something about it resonates with me and I feel my heart thump a little harder.

“Nothing?” Haymitch urges, looking between my face and the screen. I start to feel pressured to remember but I can’t so I don’t look at him, choosing instead to look at my bed.

“I’m sorry, but no. It just seems like a shitty story.” I shrug and lift from my chair, getting up to pace my room and avoid looking at the TV. I hear the box click off behind me as Haymitch and Aurelius stand to leave.

“We’ve got to head out for the afternoon Peeta. I’ll send in another puzzle for you to work on, would that be alright?” Aurelius asks in his placating tone.

“I want to leave too. When do I get to get out of here?” I stop my pacing and ask, staring directly at my captors.

“Soon, kid. Soon.” Haymitch mumbles and stumbles out the door without another word. Aurelius and I watch him leave and the other man shakes his head and follows him out. They leave me alone, standing in my room as I listen to the lock click on the door. It’s quiet for another moment before I hear voices pick up in the hallway.

“Stop _lying_ to him!” I hear Aurelius shout from outside my door. I’m startled by the intensity of his words and the shock of hearing them through the thick metal. As an afterthought, it’s not surprising that I can hear them – most nights I hear Johanna until the early morning hours.

“I wouldn’t consider it lying.” Haymitch replies gruffly and I can’t stop from pressing my ear up to the door. “The boy will remember. What good is it to discourage that?”

“Showing him B tapes of the Tour will _not_ rekindle his memory. It’ll only serve to confuse what he can remember. Not to mention that it’ll probably throw him into a fit if he were to ever recognize himself on those tapes!”

The Tour? I was watching the Tour?

His words have me pushing back from the door and stumbling towards the TV.

My hands find the buttons and frantically press at them all, urging the screen to light up so that I can get even a glimpse into the footage that they’d just been showing me. Anything to appease this urge to know more. I’m desperate to understand.

I wish I’d paid attention. I can’t even remember now what I’d just seen.

After finally trying each button with different combinations, I conclude that there is no way in hell I’ll be able to bring the pictures back. They’re out of my grasp, lost to me like my memories.

Without warning my legs let out from underneath me and I collapse onto the floor in a pathetic heap. I can’t help the way my body heaves for air as I struggle to stay anchored to the present with the breathing techniques that Aurelius has taught me. The panic is trying to drag me under but I fight it with every tooth and nail I have until it’s just too much.

 

 

I wake up, still on the floor of my room at the foot of where the TV stands, ominous and looming in the darkness. They’ve turned off the lights to my room and that usually means it’s night time.

That’s what they do here in District 13 to keep everyone on a proper circadian rhythm; Lily had told me last week. 

Moving slowly to my feet I stretch out and make my way reluctantly towards the hard bed.

I can hear Johanna down the hall, her moans echoing in the lonely darkness. It’s chilling, to say the least.

When I’m finally tucked into my sheets and my eyes grow heavy with sleep, I look towards the door to my room and the dark hallway beyond. In the shadows of the red light that is at the end of the hallway outside I see movement growing closer.

I try to shove down the panic that grabs in my gut as the figure grows closer to my door. As it nears, bile rises to my lips and I have to physically swallow it back down before it spills out. I close my eyes to focus on controlling the fear in my brain as a dark face looms on the other side of the door.

I don’t know how long I lay there with my eyes closed tightly before I peak out, glancing towards the window where I see her, watching me through the thick glass.

“Katniss?” I whisper and the figure in the window noticeably startles. My heart stops and I scramble to get out of the bed and over to the door. In my haste I can’t help that her name slips out again, much louder and more frantic than the one before. My clumsy feet tangle in my sheets and I slip as I step forward.

I don’t remember much after that.

 

 

It’s two weeks after I saw her in my window that I’m convinced that I was dreaming. That’s the only reason I can muster up without daring to ask any of my medical team. They probably wouldn’t tell me anything anyways.

Frustrated and tired of being held captive, I turn over in my bed and stare at the wall where the TV sits. It mocks me with its blank screen and hidden secrets.

I’m just about to doze off into another nap when it flickers back to life without prompting, images splaying across its screen.

I watch as the city street explodes and a ticker of words under the picture reads of a Capitol news feed. There’s been an explosion in the Capitol. There’ve been injuries. The Mockingjay is lost.

My body jerks upwards and I lurch towards the TV, my hands clenched at my sides as the scenes play out before me. This isn’t the same as the footage shown that day with Haymitch and Aurelius. This is authentic and live and a mandatory Capitol broadcast that shouldn’t even be _shown_ on this TV. I can’t look away.

Inside me my blood slows and an aching feeling grows in my chest. I can’t help but feel everything collapsing down around me as the ticker reads almost giddily about the deaths that have occurred.

I don’t know how long I watch from my spot on the floor before I feel hands grasping my arms and pulling me backwards to my bed where I’m strapped down and hooked up to my medicine dispensary machine for the steady drip of drugs. I see Lily covering the TV with a sheet, her pale face tight with worry as she returns to tend to my hands which I’ve apparently scratched until bloody.

I hadn’t realized. My body is in shock and I don’t even know why.

“Peeta,” Haymitch is there, grabbing my jaw and turning my face away from its focus on the images behind the sheet. “Focus on right here, right now,” He mutters and I nod.

I don’t know why but I can’t seem to get a grip. The drugs begin to pump and the people around me buzz like a swarm as they monitor my vitals and tend to my every need.

None of it makes sense. Not the images. Not my body’s reaction. Not my team’s reaction. Nothing.

Why do I feel like everything has come crashing down?


	5. Chapter 5

The sun cascades down around me lighting every patch of skin that’s been burned and scarred and violently tethered for the last however many weeks or months or years I seem to have been hiding out in a cement bunker.

 “Why did you let me outside?” I ask as I roll over onto my back, spreading my arms and legs and stretching my whole body out like the content cat I used to see paw through the Town back in District 12. The lush, tall, infinite grass plays against my cheek in the breeze.

Air. The air is fresh here. I breathe it in and let it fill my lungs all the way up to the cells in my blood.

When still no answer comes as another moment passes, I close my eyes and let the sun’s ray’s burn into my skin.

I’m not alone up here – surely I’ll likely never be left alone again. No, Haymitch is here, sitting on the grass with his knees clenched to his chest as though he’s struggling to stay upright. He’s barely left my side since the incident in the ward and every time I’ve looked at him without prompt I’ve seen a ghost in his eyes.

He’s being haunted and he won’t tell me by what.

The grass shifts next to me and I look up to the trees that touch the sky. They’re taller here than they ever were in 12 – less covered in grime and soot too. Maybe the air really _is_ fresher here – maybe the mines stunted everything back home.

“Haymitch?” I roll over onto my side, resting my head against my arm as I examine the man before me. His posture is tight, shoulders hunched over his knees as his fingers play at a strip of grass. He barely talks since that day; he doesn’t even have a witty remark to give.

No, now all he does is watch. And stare.

I’m not stupid. I know something happened on the TV that day. Something I probably wasn’t supposed to see or hear or know about even. And it’s easy to see that it was something major. But nobody will tell me what exactly happened or the context and it’s starting to unnerve me.

The silence between us presses on and I watch him tie and then rip the blade of grass into two. Every so often our eyes will meet and he’ll watch me for a moment, pensive. I think it’s these stares that get under my skin the most – it feels as though he’s asking me why. But why _what_?

It’s so fucking frustrating. All I can do is stare back because even if I asked (which I have) nobody will talk to me.

That’s probably why they let me out today.

Once I’d been stabilized and drugged and strapped after the broadcast I’d all but been abandoned by my medical team. Haymitch had been the only one to stick close and even then, I wished he’d go away sometimes so that I didn’t have to take more of his quiet suffering.

After that day, Lily had disappeared. Like, off-the-face-of-the-planet disappeared. I remember her hooking me up into IV’s and covering the TV and then she’d just wandered out the door and not come back.

That, mixed with the dread that had been curling in my gut since the TV first flickered to life, had only impacted the terrible silence I’d felt being cooped up in that room.

When Aurelius had finally resurfaced a few days later, he’d looked ragged and drawn. I hadn’t understood, not really, the extent of that news bulletin and what it had meant for all of those in District 13.

“Peeta, how do you feel?” His words had been calm as he’d stood at my bedside, a rare positioning for him while he asked me questions. He hadn’t even bothered to strap me down – he hadn’t needed to. Haymitch was always just outside the door now.

“I don’t know, really. Like someone’s punched me in the gut. I’m confused – I know it’s bad but I can’t figure out why.” I know my words sound more pathetic than they were intended. I wanted to be strong, to prove that I was getting better, but every time I thought about it there was a dull panic that creeped into my body and fed on me like an animal.

I was losing it over something I didn’t even understand.

Looking up at Aurelius his eyes are tight behind his glasses. His hair is frayed and his skin looks clammy. This is not the doctor that had treated me a few days prior.

“Would you like to go outside?” He asks after a moment. The words almost stun me into silence before my body tenses and tosses me out of the bed.

“Like, _outside_ outside? Or like, out of this room, outside?” My arms are gripping onto his shoulders and I can’t deny the tension that I feel radiating off of him as I lessen my squeeze. I drop my hands a moment later after he still doesn’t reply, hoping that my sudden movements have not weakened my opportunity to get out.

“I think you’d do well with some sunlight today. You can take Haymitch. You both could use a bit of vitamin D.” He nods his head and looks to the floor, as though agreeing with himself, before he turns on his heel and pads out of the room quickly.

I’m nearly bouncing on my feet with excitement, rid of all the terrible feelings that have been dogging me.

I get to go _outside_. That’s more than I’d hoped for. That’s more than I ever expected again in my _life_.

I remember bouncing up here, nearly jumping as the elevator rushed to the surface carrying a solemn Haymitch and an over-protective guard who was dressed to the nines in battle gear. When we’d reached the surface, I’d bounded out and nearly blinded myself in the sunlight.

“Haymitch?” I tried again. We’d been out here for nearly an hour now and the man still hadn’t said a word.

This time, when he finally looks up at me, his lips move as though he is about to speak. I watch him without moving – without breathing, nearly – before he closes his mouth again and sinks back into himself.

This was getting tiring. I know that he’s frustrated that I can’t remember anything. I know that something is wrong. But still – why can’t he talk to me? I remember us being able to talk to each other so easily on the train to the Capitol the first time. He’d told me so many things.

Who cares that I couldn’t remember what he said? It only mattered that I remembered that he helped me.

“Mr Mellark,” I’m startled out of my reverie by the guard calling to us from his watchful position near the gated entrance. “It’s time to go back inside now. The time allotted was only an hour.”

The man’s gruff voice rings in my ears as I realize that it’s time to return to my cage. I get to my feet, pulling my pants free of where they’ve caught in my prosthetic, and reach my hand out to Haymitch. It takes him a moment to realize that I’m offering him help and when he does, a frown crosses his face.

“I’m sorry, Peeta,” Haymitch mumbles and takes my hand, standing and brushing the dirt from his slacks. I don’t remember a time when I’ve ever been so caught off guard by a subdued Haymitch.

But really, that isn’t saying much considering everything.

We make our way back down the elevator shaft this time with a little less bounce. The faces that peek into the hallway as we pass are drawn and sad and I can’t help but feel guilty for not being part of the mourning group.

I guess it _is_ mourning – that’s the only explanation for the mood of these people.

Rounding the corner closer to my cage I’m surprised to see two figures wandering down the hall ahead of us. Very rarely is anyone actually in this hallway (I know because hell, what else am I supposed to do) apart from my medical team.

“What are you doing?” Haymitch hisses from beside me and it’s the most venomous that I’ve seen him since arriving in 13. I almost shrink back at the look on his face as Johanna and Prim turn towards us.

“I needed to see him. I heard,” Johanna cries and I can’t remember a time when I’ve heard her actually speak instead of scream. My brow furrows at the scratch in her voice and my eyes settle on Prim, her small figure thinner than I remember.

She looks sad.

“You need to leave. Now,” Haymitch replies and he steps forward as though shooing off an unwanted guest. I remember a memory when my mother had done this to a girl in our yard. She’d looked like she was from the Seam and was probably dying – I’d thrown her bread.

The memory makes my chest clench and my body hurt and I feel everything around me slowly begin to faze.

“I just needed-“ Johanna is pleading, stepping towards us.

“No!” He yells and the sound echoes off of the solid walls around us. “We can’t lose him now!”

His next words catch me by surprise and I can see through the fog in my mind’s eye that I’m not the only one. The guard behind us scuffles his feet and I’m tempted to run. Johanna and Haymitch are nearly standing toe to toe whispering frantically as Prim, the guard and I watch on. I don’t know what I’ll do if it comes to blows.

Instead of watching the pair, I focus in on Prim who’s worrying her hands together. The frown never leaves her pale face and I know that if sadness was ever personified, it would be this little girl, right now. I stare at her until her eyes meet mine, quietly searching for something that I don’t know how to give. I move to take a step towards her, spurred on by the action before us, but the guard catches me on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Mr Mellark. But you should be back in your room,” He moves us forward together and pushes beyond Haymitch and Johanna. His hand never releases my shoulder as Prim presses back against the wall to let us pass. I smile sadly at her and feel another crack in my mind as a tear slips down her cheek.

I’m just beyond my doorway when I hear her shout out, clear as day.

“You still love her!”

The door is slammed and locked in my face.

 

 

My old pieces of paper that I wrote on prior to being put in the ward have somehow found their way to my room. I don’t know how they got here and I don’t really care, but as I read the stories written within I try to focus on remembering if they’re real or not.

Nobody has been by since that day I got to go outside.

They haven’t even checked up on me.

I’ve had nothing to do, no puzzles, no painting, since they’ve locked me back in. All I’ve been able to do is think and read these stupid pieces of paper.

Who was Prim talking about? Her words ring out in my mind as I try to fall asleep at night. They clutch at me like desperate fingers, prying into my mind and haunting me like little ghosts. If her words had come at any other point I probably wouldn’t even have concerned myself with them.

But the moment had felt so fraught with a terrible feeling that I hadn’t been able to shift it.

I think back over what has happened since my arrival. Had she implied that I loved Katniss Everdeen? Putting it all together, it almost made sense. The girl had watched me religiously and then disappeared. Everyone avoided talking about her in my presence. My stories were about her.

It all connected.

But I can’t remember any of it.

Maybe that’s why I stop eating. Maybe it’s why I can’t sleep anymore. Or why I feel like everything has finally stopped moving and left me here alone. I read over my papers and find a story about my mother and burned bread. It’s incoherent at best, written in a frenzy when I’d been “sensitive” to my memories.

“Seam girl Katniss from school. She’d been starving.” I read my scribbled writing out loud, determined to voice it to make it all connect. It doesn’t. “Fuck.” I cry as I rip the paper into shreds and knock over my bedside table with my fist. It crashes to the floor and the sound is hollow.

My body feels sick as I look around me at all of the other papers sprawled across my bed. I shove them off the side too, just because I can’t bear to look at them anymore.

I can’t remember ever feeling this ridiculous and needy. This blindsided by anything. Not even the Reaping made me feel this lost.

I lay back on my bed, hands clutching at the metal bars and praying for the bindings to return because at least then it would mean someone was coming to see me. I don’t know how long I lay there before the lights shut off and only the void red light floats into my room.

Not long after the light is gone do I hear Johanna’s screams again. They’re almost comforting now, reminding me that she’s still alive and still trapped here as well.

When the screaming begins to peter out and my eyes begin to close with sleep I realize that there’s more than just screams filling these hallways. The words begin to join in between the screams, constant and methodic.

“She’s alive. Don’t give up.” They repeat, so close that they’re almost in my room. I sit up in my bed and look straight into the window in my door, sure that someone is coming to get me, but they never come. I watch for hours as the chant continues, warm and solid and so close.

I can’t help but think that the watched has now become the watcher, urgently waiting to receive further news.

 

 

I must sit there all night before my muscles become too stiff to move. My hands still grip to the rails, knuckles tight against the cold steel. It’s only when I try to reach to scratch my chin that I realize the straps are back on. Without thinking, I thrash from side to side trying to escape as the door opens.

Aurelius is back. Lily is back. They’ve got small smiles again.

“Hello, Peeta,” Lily whispers as she approaches me carefully. Her eyes are measuring, drifting over me as though checking to see if I’m still alive. When she gets close enough, she fiddles with righting the machine I pushed over the night before and motions to return the needle to my arm.

“What for?” I mumble in reply, trying to twist my arm and body away from her touch. I’m angry that they’ve left me here alone for so long. Bitter at being abandoned.

“We have some new visitors,” Aurelius answers, stepping forward and placing a hand on my chest as he forces me to lay back. Together they hold me down while the needle is inserted and the drugs begin to flow. I feel like I’m floating not ten minutes later as they watch on, checking their watches and looking around the room.

Avoiding me.

I hear the footsteps down the hall before they do – I’m sure of it because they react to my reaction. I try to sit up, struggling to control my muscles that have been subdued by the fluids, but it doesn’t work. All I can do is watch as golden skinned Finnick Odair limps into my room, a wide smile on his face and a cocky look in his eye.

“All sedated then, are we?” His happy voice shouts out and it rings false in my ears. He’s smiling but he isn’t happy. His arm is in a sling and he fondles a cane in his other hand, leaning on it heavily. He is not the picture of a Capitol in power.

He’s the image of the damaged rebellion.


	6. Chapter 6

“Let’s go for a walk today, shall we?” Finnick suggests as he sits in the lone chair by my bedside. His arm is no longer in its sling but his cane still lingers by his side.

It’s been almost a month since his first arrival in my room and I’m still struggling to come to terms with the fact that apparently we’re “grand comrades”. Ha.

Ha ha.

Very funny joke.

Ever since he first arrived in my doorway I’ve tried to put everything he’s mentioned on the back burner of my mind. His arrival had signified more than an opening door in my memories; it had brought about a new wave of treatment from Lily and Aurelius. They’d come at me full force when they’d realized that Finnick Odair’s presence in my unit was not an immediate threat to my sanity.

Each day had been a new tactic, some using drugs and some letting me scream it out. Afterwards, Finnick would once again come to my bedside and grip my hand tightly in his, telling me secrets about the Capitol that he claims he’d told me before.

Ha.

Capitol secrets.

I try not to think about where Haymitch has disappeared off to. I hadn’t seen him since the day we were allowed outside and for some reason it unnerves me. He’s been the one figure who made sense here and now I’ve got all of these new things to manage and think about and deal with and he’s nowhere to be found.

I think about asking for him one afternoon as Lily adjusts my pillows for me. I don’t finish the sentence when her gaze meets mine, warning me not to ask the question we both know I want the answer to. We don’t broach the subject again.

When the worst of my reactions had passed and I’d slowly come around to their careful prodding it hadn’t been the end for me. The nights became more torturous than anything that happened in the waking hour as the dreams began to ravish me. I barely slept now, instead sitting and painting away the dark hours in the night with the images behind my eyelids.

The ones that were surely burned there not from my imagination but from experiences that I now believed I had lost.

I still sometimes doubt that these are memories and not stories. But that doubt, every day, is growing weaker.

Something was wrong with me and I needed to figure it out. There had to be a way out.

“Hey!” Finnick calls out again, drawing my attention to where he’s standing by the doorway holding a pair of my shoes in his grip. When he’d first suggested it, I hadn’t taken him seriously. No way were they going to let me out of this cage to just go _wandering_ _around_.

Finnick takes a deep breath and struggles back to my bedside, his leg heavy and limping as he sidles up and pulls one of my feet towards him.

“What are you doing?” I nearly shout and it startles us both. I’m not used to anyone touching me, not outside of those trying to treat me. His hands feel foreign and it inadvertently makes my body tense up.

“We’re going for a walk, whether you want to or not,” He drops the shoes on the bed carelessly but his threatening tone and squinted eyes say so much more. Something more like _or else_. I move to put my own shoes on without looking at him again, nervous and a little wary of this man who’d killed so brutally in his Games.

Despite everything he’s told me, the jokes he’s made, the stories of Capitol tortures far worse than I could ever imagine, I still have trouble trusting him. I know its wrong – everyone else seems to enjoy him – but I just can’t get past it. Finnick Odair used to appear in my nightmares, long before he was the handsome face of the Capitol.

“Ready?” He’s impatient again as he waits at the doorway, clicking his cane against the floorboard and watching me. I push myself off the bed and follow him reluctantly down the hallway until our pace’s match stride for stride.

“What exactly is the plan here?” I ask hesitantly as we move through the hallways. I can’t help but notice that his limp is similar to the way mine had been when I’d first out with a bum leg. I want to ask – to see if his is still intact – but that would be incredibly rude of me and a little unfair.

“We’re going to wander aimlessly. Get you back into the real world for a little while and out of that tomb.” His voice coos and I stifle a laugh at the inappropriate way he forms his words. Almost like he’s trying to soothe a little child.

I don’t bother to keep up small talk as we make our way down through the less familiar tunnels of District 13. All of the walls seem to look the same and the only thing that tells me that we’ve finally left the hospital ward is the dying out sound of machines and the changing tone of white walls to grey.

Why they bothered to paint the hospital with white is beyond me. A coat of paint doesn’t hide the fact that you’re trapped under ground and still trying to survive.

I let Finnick lead the way until his pace begins to slow ever so slightly. He’s faltering again with his cane and when I look up at his face it’s tight with pain.

“Let’s take a rest,” I insist and try a few of the door handles along the way but none of them are open.

“Almost there kid, settle down,” He replies but his voice is tight and I feel for him. If it’s anything like what I remember, that pain is unstoppable.

We turn a few more corners and end up in another hallway full of doors. Finnick’s pace begins to pick up and soon he’s out ahead of me again, slipping into a doorway and disappearing from sight. I nearly stop when he steps out of view, suddenly unsure of exactly what I’m being led towards. My feet feel like lead as I shuffle forward, anxious about what lay ahead.

“Look who I found,” I hear Finnick murmur from beyond the doorframe. Stepping up to the opening I peak my head in like I had as a child at the bakery. I used to do this to protect myself from the broom stick my mother often wielded when we entered without permission. Ahead of me, I hear a woman squeal and I can’t help but jump back in surprise as she pops her head out from around the door.

“Peeta!” Her shout of delight has me reeling backwards until I hit the wall behind me, lurching away in an effort to run.

If I knew where I was going, maybe my plan would work, but I’m stuck here.

Somehow though, I don’t need to escape. The woman’s face falls as she takes in my panicked look and the sure way that I’m clutching the wall as though trying to disappear.

“Oh, Peeta,” She whispers more carefully now, approaching me cautiously as though trying not to frighten me.

She’s treating me like a little woodland creature – one that’s frightened of their own shadow.

I can’t help but think that maybe I am just like that now.

“Peeta, this is Annie,” Finnick calls from his position where he’s resting on the bed. I can just see the top of his head as I look beyond the tiny woman between us and my gaze moves between them.

“You don’t remember-“ Annie starts to speak and I see Finnick push back off the bed towards us in a rush.

“ _Annie_ ,” His voice is steady but warning towards her as he places a gentle hand on her back.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble as the shock runs across her features.

“Oh, no, no. I’m sorry – I forgot. Come in, will you?” Her face turns apologetic as she shuffles back to grant me entrance. I move forward reluctantly, inwardly terrified of something that I don’t really understand. When I’m finally past the threshold, I feel my body go rigid at the sight of the paintings on the walls. They’re mine, I’m sure of it, but I don’t remember painting them.

“What is this?” I nearly gasp as I look around. Each image is something more intense than the last – something beautiful, something horrid. All images that I’ve created. I look over and meet Finnick’s steady gaze as he lounges back on the bed with Annie beside him.

I don’t understand.

“Annie likes to collect things that remind her of before the war. Somehow these were brought here and she decided to hang them. Do you like them?” His voice is careful as he speaks and I know for sure in that moment that he’s been fully briefed on my situation.

This is just another test that they’re putting me through.

I don’t trust them at all.

“They’re mine. But I don’t...” I step forward as my voice peter’s off, transfixed by the sure brushstrokes and the depth in the paintings. There’s a sunset, gorgeous above the trees that used to stand tall behind the bakery. There’s one of flowers, pressed against the side of a house that looks weathered and beaten. There’s the Arena, with its metal cornucopia haunting the center.

Time seems to stretch on as I step from one canvas print to the next, taking in the curled edges and the frayed ends that surely point to having been transported in haste. When I turn back to the couple on the bed, Annie is crying silently and Finnick is holding her hand, his eyes never leaving my body.

“Why did you show me these?” My voice is almost accusing. I don’t want to remember the Arena. I don’t want to remember home. I just want to _be_ home. When Finnick doesn’t respond my eyes scan the rest of the room, searching for more and settling on a rolled up tube of paper tucked away in the corner.

“Peeta, don’t!” Finnick shouts and lunges for me but it’s too late. My hands are unfolding the paper as my eyes take in the image.

The Mockingjay. Katniss Everdeen. Hair dishevelled and sprawling across a white pillow as she sleeps.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

“What-“ I start to shout but Finnick has his hand over my mouth and is pulling me from the room. I can feel the fear bubbling up from within me as I meet Annie’s eyes over his shoulder and she looks just as lost as I am.

My body is slammed into the wall of the hallway just as the door shuts behind us.  Finnick has his arms on my shoulders, pinning me here as he watches me intently.

“Breathe,” He commands and I inhale until I can’t take in any more air. My heart is pounding in my chest, thoughts and feelings swirling through my veins as I struggle to focus on the _now_ like Aurelius had instructed me to do so many times.

I don’t know how long we stand there before my panic subsides and I’m able to stand of my own volition again. Finnick takes a step back as a weary smile fills his features.

“Congratulations,” He mutters, “You just survived your first provoked memory.” I’m able to see once again the pain filtering through his face. My hands are still balled into fists at my sides but I’m infinitely more in control than I was a moment ago.

“You should sit down,” I stutter and motion towards the door. I’d be lying if I said I was only concerned about him – I really, honestly, wanted to see those pictures again. He could tell too – there was no bother hiding it.

“Are you sure?” It’s a tentative ask but he’s already pushing his way back into the room where Annie is rolling up the paintings. I only have one painting that I want to see again.

“Can I have it?” I’m barely through the doorway when I ask, my eyes finding its crinkled form just under the bed where I’d dropped it.

“I don’t know, Peeta, maybe come back for it another time?” Annie offers as she steps in between myself and the painting that I so dearly want. I’m desperate for it.

“Please,” I beg and both of them look at me, once again picturing me as the pathetic little kid I must appear to be. I watch as Annie looks to Finnick who never shifts his gaze from me, searching for something that he can’t yet determine.

“Let him have it,” He whispers and Annie lurches to the ground and picks it up, rolling it back up and sliding an elastic down to its center. We all know it’s because really right now I shouldn’t look at it again. Even I know what over-stimulation can do.

“Thank you,” I whisper almost in awe as I look down at the painting in my hands. I know what’s contained within this paper and it’s more than just memories. I painted this in a moment of reverence. I revered Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay.

I wish I knew why. Oh god I wish I _remembered_.

 

 

Finnick offers to escort me to the cafeteria for a meal that hasn’t been cooling in my room tray for an hour, but I resist. My afternoon has already been filled with too much excitement that I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to last a whole meal time surrounded by people.

I can’t help but think that somehow I’ve taken too large a step backwards from when I first went into treatment for this whole thing. I mean, I’d sat in the food hall before without issue, why did I doubt it now?

Because now I knew what would happen if someone said the wrong thing. Now I could hurt people without meaning to.

I’d rather eat alone.

I’m deposited back into my room with a quick goodbye as Finnick staggers off. We’d spent the rest of the time with Annie, socializing and talking about the inner workings of the District and how much she missed the ocean. Finnick had regaled me with the back story about his leg, describing in detail about how he’d been fighting and some mutts had torn it clear.

I’d tried not to shudder visibly as I remembered my own loss and its own viciousness.

Well, what I remembered of what happened at least. I was still a little fuzzy.

It’s late again by the time my body settles back onto the mattress and curls up listening to the shrieks in the hallway. My fingers itch to look at the painting again, wanting to memorize every line and feature that I’d recorded. But I don’t.

Instead I watch it from afar, its position in the dark corner across the room almost taunting me with its distance. I want to remember so badly the way I’d felt when I painted that. I wanted to remember _her_.

I can’t help it.

I’m back on my feet and heading across the cold floor in an instant, my fingers reaching for its frayed edges and unravelling it in the dark glow of the red light from the hallway.

The fear isn’t the same this time. Sure, my body tenses up and as I’m forced to sit heavily on the floor, but this time I don’t starve myself for air. I look at the girl in the painting and trace her jaw with my finger, carefully outlining the soft edges and feeling the brushstrokes against the canvas.

“Katniss,” My lips whisper and I remember feeling _something_. Inside my chest is screaming as I release the shuddered breath I’d been holding. It escapes past my lips and without warning I see something drip onto the paper below.

It takes a moment for me to realize that for some godawful reason I’m sitting on the floor of this ward room in District 13 crying over something that I can’t ever remembering having in the first place. It’s the first real moment in time that I feel like something has gone horribly, horribly, wrong and that nothing will ever fix it no matter how hard I work.

_"I want to know who you are. I do."  "Please, don't go. Stay." "It's probably best you don't remember me, Peeta Mellark. You're more likely to stay alive that way."_

The words play over and over again in my head as I remember her at my bedside, warning me away from her. She’d known then what had really happened. She’d known so much more about us. And now she wasn’t here – she was gone and not helping and not _here_ for me.

And dammit, I was _angry_ at her for that.

If the way this painting made me feel was any hint at what I’d felt for this girl, then why wasn’t she here? Where _was_ she? I _needed_ her. I needed her the most!

It was a moment of resentment that pulled my hands in two directions, severing the painting into two pieces and shattering the smooth image that used to be. I regretted it instantly as my fingers tried pathetically to put it back together without any success. 

I couldn’t deal with this. This way haywire. This was madness.


	7. Chapter 7

He’d tried to put the painting back together with tape. I guess I could thank him for that. I mean, it was a nice thing to do and he didn’t have to do it. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe when he saw what I’d done, well, maybe even _he’d_ been a little sad about it. I’d seen the flicker of it on his face, the realization that perhaps my mindless action was a sign of self-destruction.

He hadn’t looked at me like that before.

So when he put the painting back together with the meager strips of adhesive he’d tracked down, I’d thanked him and let him join me for what was going to be another solitary lunch.

I hadn’t meant for it to dissolve into an inquiry.

“How did you get my paintings?” It pops up from my mind as I switch from the soggy sandwich to a small evenly portioned bowl of soup. Finnick doesn’t look up from where he’s eating against the wall on my floor (he says the chair hurts more than the floor).

“They were with Annie when we picked you all up. Not sure why, she says she didn’t know what they were, but well... Sometimes Annie doesn’t always have things clear,” His haphazard answer nearly has me reeling as I sputter on the hot liquid. I don’t meet his eyes when he looks up at me.

“Annie was with Johanna and I?”

“You didn’t know?” I shake my head and frown deeper – how had I not known that? Johanna... Well she’d spent the whole time screaming. She’d roused the guards all the time. But Annie?

“I just met her,” I mumble and then it’s time for Finnick to shake his head. “I didn’t, did I?” He doesn’t answer – he doesn’t need to. My own memory is foggy on the thought.

“I’ve known Annie for many years.” He replies almost sadly.

I remember when I’d first gotten up the courage to ask him about why he was spending so much time with a memory-less kid like myself and not, you know, out with the people of the District. He’d looked at me funny then, half a smile and half a frown, and I’d been convinced that his next words would be a lie. But they’d surprised me.

“You might not have your memories, but at least you remember who I am,” He’d stated. I’d cocked my head, confused by his answer. “My girl, sometimes she gets so caught up. Her good days can be worse than your bad days. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, just... We both need time sometimes. So we can come back together at the end of the day.”

He’d put it down in such an elegant way that I hadn’t questioned him further. I hadn’t known then that he was talking about Annie – I hadn’t really even thought about who his _girl_ was. I think perhaps I lost my observational and listening skills along with my memories.

 

 

“I think I’m broken beyond repair,” I spit but the words come out jumbled and messy as dribbles of saliva course down my chin. I’ve bit into my tongue again, caused it to swell and bleed out of the corner of my mouth after another one of my seizures.

I can’t even bother to remember what this one was stirred on by. Or maybe my brain keeps reverting and deleting recent memories with every new one that it creates. That would make sense – self-destructive reactionary memory loss.

Ugh, who cares? I’m not getting better. My paintings are going nowhere. Progress has stalled. And nothing is coming back to me, even with the new images that I’m being desensitized to.

“Don’t be silly, Peeta,” Lily soothes as she inserts a new IV line. I’d ripped the other one out with my thrashing. “You’re not broken. We’ll get you back to where it matters.”

I look over and see Aurelius standing by my bedside grinning. If my arms weren’t so sore and fatigued, I’d probably off and hit him. I’d probably even do it on purpose.

“What?” I grumbled as Lily headed out the door and left us alone.

“I think you’re ready to get out of here, Peeta.” His words nearly had me floored. I was terrified. Convinced that getting out was a death sentence. There was no way they were going to let me go into the general population. Not like this.

Would they?

“Why?” It seemed like the most honest question I could ask as my brow furled and I watched him with a puzzled expression. He stepped closer, his smile growing.

“Do you not realize? We talked about your Games for fifteen minutes before you had a reaction. And that only came because well... Because we talked about something that I can’t mention again.” He seemed to fade out at the end as we both realized how ridiculous his statement was.

Yes, _of course_ I was getting better. I could talk about things, but just not the things that got me crazy in the first place. And even better, I couldn’t become consciously _aware_ of what set me off for fear of, you guessed it, _setting me off_. End sarcasm here.

“I’m doomed,” Lifting my pillow to cover my face I couldn’t contain the groan that slipped through my lips and into the heavy fabric.

I’m not going to lie, the prospect of getting out of here, of living on my own without my family or really any friends (apart from Finnick and maybe Haymitch, though I hadn’t seen him lately) to help me was absolutely terrifying. Whenever my eyes closed for the next few days, all I thought about was how many days it would take to either set me off in the cafeteria and wind up hurting someone, or better yet, to find me dead from a self-imposed trigger scenario in my room.

None of it sounded very appealing.

When the day finally rolled around to bust me out Lily loaded me down with drugs. Each bottle had a handwritten instruction on it detailing exactly when and why I should take each pill. She followed it all up with a reminder sheet of established safe topics that I could use at any time to divert conversation.

Aurelius had arrived with a fresh set of clothing, a bag of toiletries, and a book on how to better understand dreams (apparently he’d been noting how _not_ well I was sleeping at night). I didn’t thank him for his lack of address on the subject – it seemed pointless now.

“I’ll see you every day still, Peeta. Just in an office and not in your room. We’ll have a session each evening and talk about general experiences throughout the day. Anything you want. Just remember, I’m always available.” He’d departed before I’d even let his words sink in, apparently not one for goodbyes. It wasn’t really a _goodbye_ in the traditional sense, I guess.

After a little while longer of hanging out in my room and parting with my cage, I stepped out the door unescorted for the first time in months. There was a weight that lifted off of my shoulders that allowed me to breathe a little deeper. The first step was glory.

The second was panic.

Where in the hell was I going? I hadn’t thought to ask anyone where my new room was, or even if they had a map. There was no way I’d be able to navigate these hallways on my own. Without thinking, I scuttled back into my room and slammed the door shut behind me, sinking down onto the floor with my back resting against it firmly.

Apparently, not only was my memory crap, but my confidence was shot as well.  

I’m not too sure how long I sat there, ruminating about my predicament, before I heard a familiar heavy pounding on the door.

“Peeta-bread, get out here!” The voice shouted and I knew I would recognize it anywhere.

“Haymitch?” Swinging the door open wide I let it slam against the thick cement, taking in the sight of this rough looking man and feeling an odd sense of thankfulness. “What are you doing here? Where have you been? What the _hell_?”

He looked better than I’ve ever seen him. His once sallow cheeks were nearly filled out, his colour wasn’t quite as pale as before, and his hair looked less than matted. He was still drinking, I could smell it on him, but it wasn’t quite as bad as it used to be. That I was sure of.

“I thought you were getting out of here today, kid!” He boasted and stepped into the room, casting a glance at the now barren space that had once been filled with my prompting items. He hadn’t been here in a long while.

“I am. Well, I was supposed to. But I don’t...” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked at the floor, mildly embarrassed that I had actually no idea what I was doing. Haymitch’s throat clearing before me forced me to respond. “I don’t know _where_ I’m actually supposed to go. Nobody told me that part.” It came out as more of a mumble as he barked out a laugh.

“You’re coming with me, boy. Sorry I’m late.” Grabbing at my bag, Haymitch swung backwards and headed down the hallway as I stumbled after him in my haste.

Somewhere between a ‘little while´ and an ‘obscene’ amount of time walking, I gave in to my questions.

“Can I get a map?” It seemed silly, but that is all I ever wanted from this damn underground maze.

“No. They don’t have one. You’ll have to learn.” He kept up his pace ahead of me, never once looking back.

“Where have you been?”

“Taking care of none of your business.” I nearly applauded his sharp snap responses to my questions. You could almost say I missed him when he was gone, like a dog misses their owner. Oh god, even following him right now I was like a dog.

With that thought, I picked up my pace and became determined to walk astride him, step for step.

“Where are we going?”

“If you ask me ‘are we there yet?’ I may put you back in that cage. Seriously, what have they been doing to you? Stripping you of free thought?” He rounded another corner unexpectedly and I had to swivel on my foot to catch up.

“Hey – you’re the one who’s been AWOL. I’m just trying to get things in order. Or are you forgetting that I’ve lost almost two years of my life?” The realization struck me as it finally sank in. I’d never said it out loud before, let alone really grasped what a length of time I’d lost. The thought had me slowing my pace as Haymitch disappeared around another corner.

“Hey!” His head popped back into the hallway where I’d been standing for a noticeable amount of time. “We’re nearly there,” He chided and disappeared again. I didn’t run after him this time, but instead walked on slowly.

Two years. I’d been sixteen when I’d won the Hunger Games. I was eighteen now (or so they told me, I don’t remember that birthday). I couldn’t help but think about all of the experiences I’d lost along the way and how the new thoughts in my brain were insufficient to fill in the real holes of my life. Sure, I could remember what they’d shown me and the small things I’d salvaged since being brought here, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Haymitch wasn’t lying when he said we were close. Two more turns and we were at a door marked with a D119.

“Home, sweet, home,” Haymitch mumbled as he fumbled with placing his hand on a key pad that clicked and swung open the door. The place was almost eerily similar to my ward room only in this room there were two beds that were tucked into the walls and a small bathroom off to the side.

“I have a roommate?” I asked, turning to him and sitting down on the stiff mattress. I wasn’t really eager to live with someone else, especially not after sharing a room with my brothers for years. He chuckled to himself for a moment before meeting my eyes.

“You’ve got a Mentor. Or a Guardian, as they’ve deemed it to be now.” I didn’t really understand his implications. I’d been assigned as a ward? I was eighteen. The government didn’t need to care for me. I looked at him with a puzzled expression until he frowned. “You really don’t get it?”

“Not really,” I replied, trying to hide the waver in my voice.

“That’s my bed. Space is tight here in 13. Plus they wanted somebody to monitor you for the first little while. I guess I drew the short stick.”

Oh.

I had to _live_ with Haymitch? In close quarters?

“Can I go back to the ward?” I asked honestly but Haymitch just burst out into a gut churning laugh.

“No kid. I wish, but no. It’s time to move forward.” Tossing my stuff onto the floor he turned on his heel and departed without another word. I didn’t move from my spot on the bed for a long time, soaking in the idea that I was going to be stuck here for god knows how many months with this drunk and his burning sarcasm and my nightmares.

This was going to be a terrible experiment gone wrong, that I was sure. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

The first night is terrible. Horrible. Haymitch snores and wheezes and carries on like he’s a goddamn blow horn that is determined to keep me from ever sleeping again. I hate him. I want to put a pillow over his face and smother him until he stops breathing.

All I _can_ do is throw my crumbled up socks at him, each one bouncing off of his too-drunken face. I wish I was back in the ward.

Pulling my pillow tightly over my head I roll over and try to fall asleep. I don’t quite know how long I lay there before I’m being pulled awake within the tendrils of a dream as my body falls onto the floor with a resounding thump.

It doesn’t wake the beast.

This was a mistake.

 

 

“It’s time to eat,” Haymitch grumbles, twisting at his wrist where he’s just had his daily schedule imprinted into his forearm. I don’t dare stick my arm in the machine, certain that it’ll spit out something that I don’t want to do. You can’t be obligated without knowing about it.

Instead of rousing from my spot on the floor, I turn onto my side and scoot closer to the cement wall. If Haymitch is leaving for a while, I am certainly going to take the opportunity to get some sleep and perhaps enjoy just an hour of the silence I so desperately miss.

“Hey,” His foot nudges my ribs and I groan audibly, still tender from where I hit the floor sometime in the early hours of the morning. “Get up kid, it’s time to go.”

“Idontwannacantmakeme,” I protest into the pillow that’s wrapped around my face.

“They start tracking at breakfast, you have to show or they’ll put you back in the ward,” His voice sounds closer now, as though he’s standing over me and contemplating his next move. If he tries to drag me, I’ll surely slit his throat.

Besides, going back to the ward seems like a reward right now.

“No. Go away. I’ll be fine. I’m not hungry.” I spit out as many lines as I can, determined to get him away from me.

“Fine, your freedom,” He scolds as the door slams shut behind him and silence finally fills the room. When it seems like he’s been gone for a enough time, I crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head in an attempt to drown out the bright lights overhead.

 

 

Waking up later, I’m surprised to still find myself alone. Haymitch never came back from breakfast and I can only assume that means he was called away or was scheduled to be somewhere else. Apparently even _he_ keeps to his schedule. I’m tempted to ask him about it when he gets back.

It’s not until later, after I’ve fiddled with a few sketches in my notebook that I’m interrupted by a knock on the door. I don’t bother to get up since it’s likely not for me – nobody even knows I’m here or out of the ward yet. When the small knock comes again, this time it’s accompanied by a shout for Haymitch.

A female shout.

I stay rooted to the bed, paralyzed with fear and excitement and a little bit of anticipation. The knock turns into a pound.

“Haymitch! You old bastard get out here!” The knocking stops and then the handle is moving and jarring and the girl outside is swearing up a storm and I’m just _dying_ to see who it is because I know it’s not Johanna or Lily or Prim or any other women I’ve met during my time here in District 13.

“He’s not here,” I yell back, fighting against my own urge to go towards the door and swing it wide open. The movement at the door seems to cease abruptly and I think maybe she’s gone. The sounds don’t come again and after a while, I stop watching the handle for any further movement. Just to be sure anyways, I get to my feet and open the door slowly.

She’s still there. Accompanied by crutches and bandages and other wounds that haven’t yet healed.

“They said you’d died,” I mutter, shock freezing me in place as I look down at the girl who haunts my dreams and hides in my memories. The girl who tears me at the seams without even being _near_ me.

“Who told you that?” She snarls from her place against the wall. Frowning, my eyes meet the ends of my shoes as I’m forced to break eye contact with her. She’s killing me.

“The TV. It said the Mockingjay had died. I thought you were the Mockingjay?” She looks at me for a long while after that, her eyes never faltering from their place just over the top of my head. I take in her tight posture, her white knuckles on the crutch handles, the way she bites her lip until it starts to bleed. She looks about as downtrodden as I feel.

“Well, too bad for you, I didn’t die. I’ve got to be getting back or they’ll send the troops out,” As fast as her hobbled body can take her, she begins to head off down the hall.

“I never wanted you to die, Katniss,” I mumble and I know she hears my quiet confession because she stops and I see it in the way she stands that she wants to say more. She doesn’t though, instead seemingly picking up her pace as she turns the corner at the end of the hall.

I stare after her for a long while, standing in the desolate hallway and watching the path from where she’d disappeared, silently hoping that perhaps she’d come back and tell me everything I’d wanted to know about her and me and us and the war and the Games.

But she doesn’t come back and eventually I wind up sitting on my bed famished and wishing I’d figured out how to get to the cafeteria this morning with Haymitch.

Dammit I hate when he’s right.

 

 

When dinner time finally rolls around and Haymitch still hasn’t come back to the room, I figure I’m being left to my own devices (and probably punished) and head out into the random patterned hallways.

I walk for an hour before I start to understand how the paint in the hallways changes depending on the region you’re in. And that’s only after I’ve discovered that white is medical, grey is living quarters, and yellow is general use.

As though ‘General Use’ is something that is defining.

Coming upon the green walls then, I know that I’m heading in the right direction. I remember this pale mint colour from before, when I’d first been let out of the ward. They’d gone for green because it reminded people of the outdoors – I’d thought it comical, but now it just seemed logical.

It’s only a few more right turns before I’ve ended up at the entrance to the cafeteria where the place seems to be filled to the top with bustling bodies. Every table looks to be overflowing as the citizens talk and laugh and carry on as though nothing out of the norm has happened. I try not to let the sounds get to me as I watch others proceed down the food line, mimicking their behaviour so I don’t look out of place.

It’s funny, I think, to have to relearn something that only a while ago I’d done without a second thought. Now that I knew something was wrong with me, I had to focus twice as hard to make sure I fit in.

“Peeta?” My hand is gripping an apple tightly when I hear my name, surprised and somehow carrying over the throngs of people that surround me. Without warning I feel a hand on my shoulder turning me around and unexpectedly pulling me in for a tight hug. I nearly drop my tray.

“Delly?” I remember her from long before, from when we were kids. She was my best friend until I was Reaped. I don’t remember much else, except that she’s always smiling and her blonde frizzy hair always manages to tickle my nose.

“You’re back!” She nearly screams into my shoulder. My fingers grip onto the tray before me harder as I try to remember where I’d been that would cause this type of reception. I feel the familiar prickle of hair rising on the back of my neck as my mind works double time to remember.

Not good. Not good at all.

My eyes scan the room desperately looking for anyone that can get me out of here before I lose it. I see a flash of blonde and tan and black and shout out in my mind for them to turn and notice me. Like a bolt of lightning, Finnick is meeting my gaze and walking towards me swiftly.

“Hey Peeta, come have lunch with us,” Prim is gripping my arm as I try to breathe in deep, relaxing my muscles from their tensed up position. When I look back, Finnick is crouched down before Delly and is talking to her in subdued tones. I watch as she frowns and then looks towards me with tears in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her caught up and then she can visit you too!” Prim continues, overly peppy with her words.

We settle into the table with Annie a few moments before Finnick rejoins us, putting on a smile and welcoming me back to the real world. I almost scoff at the thought that District 13 is the real world, but then I catch myself.

We’re in a war. District 13 _is_ the real world now. Hiding out underground in endless tunnel systems is what it’s come down to, all because a few berries.

“Berries?” I mumble it out loud in a moment of perplexing confusion and I can’t miss the way that everyone’s gaze slowly swivels to mine. They don’t speak and they don’t blink and it seems as though the berries mean more to them than they do to me. “What?”

Finnick shrugs. Prim looks away. Annie smiles sadly.

“How’s freedom treating you, Peeta?” Prim asks, turning back towards her small portion of soup.

“Haymitch snores,” I grumble, turning the taste of the bean concoction on my plate over in my mouth. Finnick snorts into his own meal as he tries to avoid my threatening scowl. “Katniss came by today,” I toss out nonchalantly to them, testing the waters on how this will be received. I have so many questions and no one to answer them.

“Oh?” Finnick asks, looking towards Prim who shrugs her shoulders in reply. I flick my attention between them both, seemingly watching as they converse without words. “What did she want?”

“She was looking for Haymitch, I think. Looked to be in rough shape too,” I continue since they’ll let me. Maybe they’re trying to see where _I’ll_ go with this line of conversation.

“She shouldn’t be out of the hospital ward yet,” Prim’s words are clipped as she places her spoon back on her tray and moves to stand. The frown on her lips lets me know that she’s not pleased with her sister and the way she’s been acting.

Wait. Wait wait wait.

“Prim!” I grip her elbow tightly in my hand as she stands to leave, surprising her and forcing everyone around us to tense up at my words. I stare at her for what seems like forever, begging any sign to come through that would confirm what I’m thinking. Anything. “Katniss... Is she?” I don’t finish – the thought seems preposterous in my head. They look nothing alike. They don’t behave the same. Katniss looks nothing like Lily, Prim’s mother. None of it makes any sense at all.

It’s Prim’s sad smile that catches me then, telling me everything I need to know without one word being spoken.

“Peeta?” I feel my body spiraling away from me, pulling me up and away from the table as I disengage and head towards the doorway. There’s betrayal in my gut, a burning hatred that consumes me as I realize that Katniss is Lily’s daughter – that the woman who’s been at my bedside has known so much more than she’s been letting on.

I’m lost in the yellow area again as I try to find my way back to my room. When I come upon the same doorway to the gym that I’ve passed at least three times, I can no longer contain the yell of frustration and anger that escapes from me. Pulling open the door to the gym, I enter and let loose, tearing through the meager supplies of equipment that they have and ripping apart their organized structure.

I don’t know how long exactly I spend there before I let myself fall to the ground and lay on my back, staring at the white ceiling that seems a lot lower than it should be. I hear the door swing open after a while, soft footsteps coming to my side and settling down into a seated position next to me.

“You’ve made quite a mess,” Aurelius states. I don’t open my eyes to look at him, instead trying to will him away with my mind.

“How did you find me?”

“We were supposed to have a meeting but you didn’t show. So I tracked you down. There were some reports of suspicious activity in this area,” He makes sense. I don’t push my luck. Maybe it’s better to not realize the lies that people have been using on you. “What caused this ruckus?” He continues and I bark out a laugh.

“Katniss. Prim. Lily. They’re all in on it.” I mumble bitterly in reply. We sit in silence for a moment, him evaluating my words and me unwilling to give more.

“There’s going to be a lot of times where you discover that we haven’t told you everything Peeta. I’m going to be honest with you about that. If we told you all of our connections, it would hinder your progress or even set you back. Tell me, honestly, if you think that knowing Lily was related to Katniss would have helped you?”

“Yes,” I say without even thinking it through.

“How?” His question gets into the place that I didn’t want to think about. The mental trap that made me realize just how ridiculous my anger was.

“I could have asked her things,” I grumble even though I know it never would have been possible. The one method of treatment that they’d tried was questioning and it had always, _always_ , ended up badly.

“You and I both know Peeta, that-“

“I know!” I shout, cutting him off. My frustration is still boiling just below skin level. I hear him sigh audibly above me as he shuffles back to his feet.

“Let’s get you back to your unit,” I open my eyes finally at his words to see him standing over me, holding out a hand to help me up. I take it reluctantly and brush myself off, clearing the dust from the floor away from my pant legs.

“I’m sorry, about the mess,”

“Don’t worry about it – it’s better to make a mess of a room than somebody else’s face,” He quips in response and heads off down the hallway ahead of me.

Back in the room, Haymitch is pacing the small space awkwardly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he slouches.

“Where have you been?” He shouts, meeting us halfway as I step through the door. I shrug limply, unwilling to really get into it with him right now. Haymitch doesn’t bother with me anyways, turning his gaze above my shoulder and looking to Aurelius who is still standing in the doorway.

“Get some rest, Peeta. We’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow,” Aurelius calls and closes the door behind him. I crawl into bed without changing, wrapping myself up in my blankets and trying desperately to re-sort all of the connections that I’ve made today.

The real world is _much_ harder to deal with, that’s for sure.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm sitting with Delly. It's lunchtime on my second week out of the ward and they're finally putting me on the tracking list which means my arm now gets that tattoo every morning after Haymitch's.

To be honest, it sucks. I hate not having the freedom to just lay around and not do anything. But at least I can say they're careful in their assignments. Each session I have is spent in the company of someone who knows what's going on - someone who could get me to refocus if it ever became necessary.

Today I spent the morning with Annie in a cooking class. It was slow going, filled with things I'd learned from working in the bakery all my life, but I'd tried not to let it get to me.

"I'm glad we could hang out, Peeta," Delly chrips with a broad smile plastered all over her face. I can't help but think of the memories I do have and how wonderful they all were when I was younger.

"Me too," I reply, mostly into my roll that I've dipped in our lasagna as I lean forward and take a bite. I'm caught off guard by her light giggle that fills the table. "What?" My mouth is full when I ask, a few crumbs falling from the corner of my lips.

She motions to her chin and laughs even louder at my expense.

"You have a little..." She reaches over and I'm startled backwards at how close her hand is. The look on my face makes her freeze, hand still held mid-air. I have to take a moment to look at her as I try to rid myself of the frown on my lips.

Oh. Oh!

I use my palm to rub my face free of mess, my cheeks burning in embarrassment and misunderstanding. Delly drops her hand back to her side and looks away, the smile still tight on her lips.

"Sorry," she mutters and I urgently shake my head.

"No don't apologize! I'm sorry, I don't... Some things still catch me off balance is all," I reply and reach forward and grasp her clenched hand in mine. Our eyes meet over the table and the look on her face is so sad and I just don't understand. "I'll be normal again soon," I mutter ad squeeze her fingers tightly.

"I know. I just hate that this happened to you." She's shaking her head now, her eyes focused on our clasped hands. "What are you up to after lunch?"

The subject change is a welcome distraction as I fill her in on the military history class I'm being forced to take surrounded by twelve year olds. She laughs alongside me, keeping the mood upbeat and my spirits high.

"Can I have a hug?" She asks quietly, standing at my side as I dump our trays in the appropriate disposal. I cock my eyebrow at her, confused at her question.

"Why?"

"I miss you and you look like you need one?" She replies, shrugging her shoulders and looking away again. Before she turns back, I gather myself together and pull her close, squeezing her with all the strength in my arms.

After a moment I drop my arms and step back, grinning from ear to ear.

"That felt good," My words hang in the air between us as we stand and stare at each other, savouring the moment before we have to go back to our schedules.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" She asks hesitantly before I turn and head in the opposite direction. Nodding eagerly, I promise to meet her again for lunch and end up running to show up on time.

 

 

"How does being out of the ward feel?" Aurelius asks me one afternoon while he continues his endless notes in his book.

"It's fine. It's nice to see people other than you guys and Finnick," Nodding slowly, I catch the way his eyes flick in my direction and then refocus on his pages. "What?" I ask, curious as to what I've said to cause this reaction.

"Who else are you spending time with, if you don't mind me asking? Have they been briefed regarding your condition?" He speaks evenly, finally looking up and meeting my gaze right on. It's unnerving the way his eyes seem to search into my soul.

"I do mind you asking and yes, I think she's approved," I shrug, remembering back to the day in the cafeteria where Finnick had taken her aside.

"Who?" He says almost inaudibly.

"Delly. Delly Cartwright. I knew her back in 12. We were friends." His hand scribbles fiercely across the paper as he continues to watch me. "How do you do that?" I ask, gesturing to his hand.

"I've never... Delly? I'll have to... Don't worry, keep doing what you're doing," He quickly fades out again, his focus returning to his book.

I can't hold in the sigh any longer.

"I will keep doing what I'm doing. It hasn't set me off so I've no reason to stop. In fact, I'm late to meet her." I push to my feet and make briskly for the door before he's calling after me. I don't turn around - too frustrated to play right now.

It doesn’t take me long to find her in the barely existing library that District 13 has setup for its residents. I’ve gotten a lot faster at this maze of tunnels in the weeks since I’ve been out. I’ve even figured out that there’s almost a pattern to the system, like a honeycomb that feeds into the center.

“Hey,” I call out, walking up behind her and resting my hands comfortably on her shoulders. She turns around to face me, the standard Delly smile lighting up the room around us – it’s infectious.

“Hey, how’d your appointment go?” She asks as I take a seat across from her at the table. My hands fiddle with the books she’s laid out in front of her – a wide collection of historical collections on the Dark Days.

“You’re allowed to read these?” I deflect, concerned more that she’s been given access to books that are of a pretty high rank according to Haymitch’s ramblings. Flipping to the middle page I start reading, trying to focus on the words before me until her hand is covering the page and closing the book on my fingers.

“Don’t avoid the question Peeta. How’d it go? It ran a little late.” She won’t let me off the hook – not that easily.

“It was fine. Same questions as last week, just, you know, more Aurelius,” I reply, not too sure I remember when I first started using his name as verb. I don’t want to talk about this – I really, really don’t. “What’d you do today?” I try changing the subject again and listen for her sigh, the same one she gives me every time I try to avoid talking about my sessions with Aurelius.

It’s not unusual for me to brush it off. Delly knows that. She wants to help but sometimes I just cannot fathom even letting her in for fear of her getting caught up in this mess that is my mind. I guess I’m really just afraid that she’ll figure out I’m such a disaster still and leave me to flounder around hopelessly.

“Well,” The books are put away and the frown has vacated her face, “I had a homemaking course where they taught us how to install light fixtures. And then I was asked to do a write up on the Dark Days and their technological advances during the war. And so, that’s where I am – getting lost in all this,” She throws up her hands and flips the books closed, leaning back in her chair and blowing a piece of hair from her face. Without thinking about it, I reach over and tuck it behind her ear, grinning at her.

“Let’s get out of here – let’s go have some fun. Get crazy and play some cards or something. I think Haymitch has a deck stored in his drawers.” Her returning smile is enough for me and we’re off, abandoning the books in the turn-around and heading to my shared unit with Haymitch.

Like usual, he isn’t there when I arrive. Rarely is he here, except to sleep and harass me to go to breakfast. I honestly don’t mind – because sometimes I take the liberty and skip morning protocol to catch up on my sleep. I make quick work of thieving the cards and heading back out to meet Delly in the hall where we head to her unit and filling the air with small talk.

“Do you have any threes?” I ask an hour later as we sit on the hard cement floor and play the only game from childhood that I remember how to play. She shakes her head and laughs viciously, picking up a card and handing it to me.

“Any queen’s?” I surrender them while shaking my head, knowing she’s got this game (like every game) in the bag.

We make quick work of the rest of the game, me losing terribly and her mocking me as she crowns herself with a towel that she rolls and places on her head like a halo. It’s not hard to laugh when I’m with Delly – not hard at all. She makes my day easy, reminds me what it’s like to be a kid again, and I love it.

“Hey – why do you get a private unit?” My question catches her off guard as she’s replacing the towel, tucking it into the drawer and faltering on the effort to close it. I see her tense up, her fingers shaking before she grasps her hands together and looks back at me with all smiling gone from her face.

“My family didn’t make it to 13,” She whispers so quietly that I have to strain to hear it. I feel the tension in my back and the way my posture adjust until I’m leaning back against her bed frame.

“I’m sorry – let’s not talk about it,” I mutter and look away, unwilling to meet her eyes for fear that I’ll dreg up all of her bad memories. I’d have bad ones too, but apparently the Capitol took them from me. I almost feel okay with that.

“No, no it’s okay. I mean, it was bound to come up anyways,” She sighs, sitting down heavily next to me. I lean into her shoulder and push her gently, letting her know that I’m here to listen for as long as she needs. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it,” Delly whispers, unsure.

“I can handle it,” I reply and rest my hand on her knee to stop it from shaking. She looks at me then, her eyes full of shining tears and a kind sadness. It must be killing her to not talk about it. I’m her best friend and I can’t help her because she’s worried about me – that’s not fair.

“I don’t want to put you at risk – you’ve been through enough.” I rest my forehead against hers, drawing in a steady breath and exhaling carefully.

“The thing is Delly, I don’t remember what I’ve been through – so does it really matter?” She lets out a quiet sob and I can feel her shaking. Pulling her close, I press a kiss to her cheek and hold her until the tears soak my shirt. I’m nearly crying myself, desperately clinging to a memory that I don’t have but likely hurts just as much.

My family apparently didn’t make it either. Nobody can tell me what happened.

After a while, when we’re all cried out, I’m still holding her close, resting against her as she leans into me. I can feel the exhaustion radiating off of her but I can’t let go. I miss comfort. I miss being close. I miss something that I can’t remember I had.

“Hey, hey, let’s sleep,” I whisper into her hair. She nods her head against my chest, sniffling as she pulls back and looks up at me. Her face is a mess, all red and swollen and stained with tears. Getting to my feet I reach out and help her up off the uncomfortable show. We make our way onto the narrow bed with her against the wall and my knees meeting hers. “Goodnight,” I whisper, watching as her eyes begin to fall heavily.

“Sleep well,” Her breath brushes against my cheek as I pull the blanket over us and tuck my hand into hers.

I can provide her comfort right now. I can be what she needs.

Maybe this is what I was missing – maybe I’d forgotten this. I can’t help but think about it as I drift off to sleep, slowly falling into the dark abyss that welcomes me with open arms and drags me down.

 

 

It’s a dream I’ve had before. Full of unfamiliar trees and water and a feeling of ominous endings. I’m running through the trees, down a hill at a pace that I can barely manage before I trip and Finnick is on me.

“Quiet!” He yells, shoving his hand over my mouth and holding me down. I feel the panic bubbling up and I bite his hand and force him off me during his moment of surprise. I don’t stay down for long, up on my feet and stumbling over vines and getting tangled in the undergrowth in no time. I hear a shuffle of bodies below, see a golden wire snap back in my direction, and my chest seizes.

“Katniss!” I’m shouting but I’m not surrounded by the trees anymore – I’m in a cement bunker, wrapped up in Delly’s arms as she stares at me with wide eyes, unsure of what exactly to do. She brushes the sweaty hair from my forehead as a frown fills her features.

“It’s alright Peeta,” She coos soothingly but I can feel her shaking. It’s then that I notice I’m squeezing her so tight that surely I must be hurting her. I push back, falling onto the floor with a thump and hitting my head on the cement.

I black out.


	10. Chapter 10

“What was he doing there?” Finnick’s voice fills the air, pulling me out of the darkness. “Weren’t you supposed to be watching him?”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve other duties too. Keeping an eye on both of them is harder than it looks – she’s always out fighting and he’s losing his marbles here. I’m _tired_ ,” Haymitch moans, ranting on about things that don’t quite click.

“Well shit, Hay, that’s what you signed on for,” I hear the shuffle of feet and the door slam shut as Finnick departs. I can no longer subdue the groan, letting it rumble in my chest and bring me back to reality.

“Peeta,” Haymitch is at my side, looking down at me with steady eyes while his hand finds mine in the restraints.

Dammit. The ward.

“What happened?” His voice is like a nail being hammered into my skull, making my toes curl and my stomach twist. Memories flash in my brain, harsh and blaring as I try to think but _can’t_. The rake of fear pulls over my back and my body tries to collapse in upon itself but is restrained by the bands at my arms.

It hurts, oh fuck it hurts. 

I feel Haymitch place his hands on my shoulders, trying to roll me back onto my back but it’s no use – my body rebels and pulls and something jerks loose in my shoulder. I cry out but it’s the accompanying pain and fear that launches inside me that has the bile spewing from my throat and coating Haymitch’s somewhat clean outfit.

He isn’t repelled.

“Peeta breathe!” He yells and it cuts through the howling sound that rings in my ears. I can’t help it; my mind’s at war and there’s no controlling it, especially not with the added fuzz that’s joined in this morning. In the distance I hear a growl and then the door slam open. My mind flashes with mutts and limbs and blood and I try to get clear of the bed but my arm gives another sick sound and my body jerks before I see Lily and then I’m out.

 

 

I think I miss Delly.

I think, at least, that’s what’s dragging inside of me while I wait to be released from the ward. The past few days here have been monstrous, filled with recall tests and failed memories and my stupid dislocated shoulder.

There’s no way I can forget the pain that _that_ caused. Ugh.

“Are you ready to go now?” Finnick pokes his head inside the door and grins madly at me. He’s been here every day, switching out with Haymitch, and trying to keep me company. While it’s not ideal, it’ll do. At least until I can talk to Delly and see why she hasn’t come to visit me.

I’m going to withhold judgement on that one.

“Let’s get out of here,” I mumble and slip off the bed to join him in the hallway.

The pair of us keep good pace as we hobble along with our false legs. Though he doesn’t talk about it much, I know the idea gets to him just as it had me, that you’re not quite whole anymore. I suspect it’s even a little harder for him after having been a Capitol icon for so long.

But I don’t mention it.

“So, what’re your plans for freedom kid?” He asks, leading me down through the now familiar hallways towards the cafeteria. At least I remember that the cafeteria is in the center of the honeycomb – that makes sense now.

“Well, probably not sleep well since Haymitch-the-tank-engine and I will still be sharing a unit. Maybe I’ll go to class. See Delly. Nothing too outrageous,” I reply, walking on ahead as something distracts him and he falls a pace behind. He quickly catches up, grabbing my arm in his hand and pulling me to a stop. I try to avoid the fierce way his eyes search me for something.

“What’s going on with you two?” I’m tempted to just bolt – I’ve got running years on this leg – years that he doesn’t have. But he knows the place better. I’d never get away far enough.

I don’t know why I suddenly want to run, but the fear from childhood is back. The fear that he’s come here to kill me is coiling inside. I have to shut my eyes tight to avoid the recall that’s flooding me right now.

“Nothing,” I gasp out, leaning against the wall and crouching a little. My mind flashes an image of a forest with vibrant hues, so intense that it hurts. “We’re just hanging out,” I continue, forcing the words past my lips. His tall frame standing over me casts a shadow on my bent form, looming above.

“Okay,” His words are careful and balanced. The forest begins to dissipate from my vision and I collect myself, standing up straight and huffing out heavily. I wipe the beads of sweat from my brow as he squints his eyes at me. “You alright?”

I nod and start walking again, moving towards the cafeteria with a violent need. When we hit the doors, my eyes scan the busy space and search desperately for her blonde head. She isn’t here.  I crash a little.

“What kind of gruel do they have for us today...” Finnick groans, walking up to the service station less enthusiastically. I follow behind him, dragging my feet.

We take a set of seats in the back corner of the room, slapping our trays down before us and staring at the food as though it’s grown another head. It looks less appealing than I remember, a significant amount of mush with a helping of... something.

“Did this get worse or am I just imagining it did?” I grumble as I stick a fork in the meat-like substance.

“I heard Greasy Sae took some time off from the kitchens. Something about her granddaughter being ill,” Finnick replies, scooping it into his mouth and trying to withhold the scowl.

I don’t know why, but the name resonates with me. It’s familiar and I think I know that I should know it, but I can’t quite place it. I can’t dwell on it though as Annie and Prim soon join us, already in mid-discussion regarding new procedures in the medical ward.

“We extracted a bullet today from a femur. It was unbelievable!” Prim exclaims as the smile on her face reaches top level. I watch her carefully as she tells us of her day and all of the wounded soldiers who came back from the Capitol. I soak it all in, determined to get as much as I can, while also excluding myself from the conversation by tucking my head towards my meal.

To be completely honest, I’m still not comfortable around Prim knowing that she’s related to Katniss. There’s no way that she doesn’t know what’s happened to me and what happened between us – absolutely not. And the fact that she lied to me only deepens the fault line that grows ever larger between us. But I don’t tell anyone this – they wouldn’t understand. They’d tell me that I just need to trust them, that I need to understand that they can’t do anything – that their hands are tied.

I finish my meal in silence and then stand from the table without a goodbye. They barely seem to notice as Prim rattles on about someone named ‘Rory’ and how he’d finally pulled through from his concussion that he obtained in District 2.

Leaving the cafeteria I can’t stand not knowing any longer – I head straight to Delly’s unit and rap my fist against her door, calling out her name when she doesn’t answer after a moment. After the third person walks by and gives me a dirty look, I falter in my decision to come here. Maybe she’s avoiding me. I’m just about to head to my unit when I hear my name ringing out in the hallway behind me.

“Peeta?”

Delly.

I swing around, the smile growing wide on my lips as I take in the sight of her. A wave of relief seems to wash over me and I walk towards her. “Where _were_ you?” I ask, pulling her into a tight one-armed hug and holding her close.

“I got caught up in some things. When did you get out?” Pulling back, she runs her fingers across my forehead and smiles. It’s not quite a full smile.

“Just a while ago. I wanted to see you.”

“Let’s go inside, okay?” She replies carefully and slides her fingers against the sensor. The door slides open to grant us access and once inside I pull her close again, breathing in the familiar scent of her.

“I missed you,” I whisper into her hair as her fingers tap on my spine.

“Me too.” When we pull back this time, I only get a few inches before our lips are meeting and I’m kissing her. It’s weird, yes, because I’ve known Delly since we were kids, but it’s also nice. It’s friendly and warm and just what I need to settle down my heart rate and calm my mind.

“That’s was nice,” I breathe, resting my head against her shoulder. She laughs lightly, nodding, and strokes my neck, her breath cascading across the crest of my ear.

We stand there for a while, slightly stunned and quiet. Soaking in the feeling of comfort that we’ve both been missing since we first came to 13.

“I’m late for a meeting,” She says after a while, stepping back and brushing her hands across her thighs. She doesn’t quite meet my gaze as hers flits around the room and looks at everything but me. I try not to take offence but I won’t deny it’s unsettling.

“Do you want to meet for dinner?” I watch her carefully as she moves around her room, methodically packing a bag full of note papers and pens. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be back in time for dinner – want to meet here after? About nine?”

“Sure,” The uneasy feeling grows in my gut but I push it back down. I trust Delly. I know Delly. “I’ll see you later,” I say a quick goodbye and head out before she does, escaping down the empty hallways and heading towards the elevator system I know takes you up to ground level.

Reaching the gates, the guards let me pass without any issues and soon I’m riding up to the surface and bursting free into the open air. I linger in the sunlight, enjoying my free day before heading off into the edge of the trees and walking in the shade. The warm breeze from the late summer months reminds me of warm fall afternoons and I relish in the memories that I still do have. Ones filled with baking and school and my brothers.

After a while, I hear a guard from the fence calling me to return. It’s nearly dusk, he informs me as we ride the elevator down.

Back in the cafeteria, I find myself sitting alone but surrounded by strangers. Nobody bothers me. Nobody _speaks_ to me. But I can’t ignore the looks and the strange way that everyone seems to be watching me with wary eyes.

I’m almost at the odd shaped looking ‘dessert’ portion of my meal when I feel a hand on my good shoulder, turning me around and forcing me to look up at a very angry Haymitch.

“Where have you been?” He snarls.

“You seem to be saying that a lot lately. You’d think that perhaps you’d start keeping track if it was always such an _issue_ ,” I accuse in return trying to forcefully return to my dinner. His hand resists and pulls me back and I huff angrily. “What do you want?”

“You need to come with me, now,” He grabs at my collar and I lift my good arm to slap him away.

“No. Not until you tell me why!” I yell and sense the people startle around me. Haymitch’s gaze narrows and his fingers bite into my skin.

“Not here,” And then he’s pulling me from the table with such a force that I stumble over the chair and nearly crash into the floor. People are watching and suddenly I remember when my mother used to drag us out back behind the bakery and give us a whipping for misbehaving.

“Stop, please,” I cry and I hate how desperate I sound as I struggle to calm myself down before I fall over the edge. Haymitch slows his pace only to look back at me and I try to hold it together as he looks me over.

It’s then that I hear the clicking in the corner and the buzz of white noise start to fill the cafeteria and deaden the chatter around me. I watch his face pale as his grip lessens and I follow his eyes up towards the TV’s glow.

President Snow fills the screen and I feel my heart thud. A loud ringing fills my head and I can’t focus on his words or the eerie calmness that seems to fall over the room. Haymitch’s hand falls from my shoulder and I stumble backwards. I can feel my pulse in my head, throbbing as it starts to burst. I feel nauseous.

There’s a hand wrapped in mine, pulling me from the room just as a female voice fills the space. It’s strong and clear and familiar and everything I want to wrap myself up in. There’s a crackle and Snow is back, preaching about something or other just before it’s interrupted again. I can’t focus on the sounds of bombs falling and the crowd of people gasping as I’m shoved against the wall and Delly is kissing me and holding my collar tightly in her fingers.

I’m distracted by her lips and the fierce way they’re pressing into mine. When I push back, we stumble down the hallway and soon we’re walking away from the cafeteria and towards the living quarters. I don’t remember getting to her room but soon we’re there and she’s against me and pushing me down onto her bed and crawling over me and the pounding in my head is back as she kisses me again and lifts my shirt up my chest.

I can’t focus on the way we’re pressed together. I can’t focus on the feel of her, or the way she tastes, or the way this feels out of control and reckless. There’s no stopping her when she pulls her shirt over her head and holds my hand to her supple breast.

The ringing in my head grows and I’m nauseous again.

She’s rocking her hips against me and whispering in my ear but I don’t understand her at all.

All I can picture is rain and my back yard and bread and Katniss and the beating my mother gave me after for burning the bread. I’m stuck in the replay of the moment as Delly bites at my lip and I groan as mentally I remember taking a wallop from my mother.

“Stop thinking,” She gasps in my ear and shoves her hand in my pants, grasping at my length and pulling me free. I can’t focus. Where is all this noise coming from? “ _Peeta_ ,” Delly calls and I flicker my eyes back towards her, sure that they’re wide as saucers as she leans down towards me.

I feel sick.

This isn’t right.

What is happening?

Without warning my body is twisting to the side as my shoulder slips free of its sling and my stomach wretches onto the floor. I feel the burn in my arm as my elbow stretches out and I try to regain some sense of my body and where I am. Delly recoils from her place on my hips and scuttles to the ground, holding my torso from its precarious position on the edge of the bed.

When I come back to my surroundings, I can’t look at Delly. Whatever’s just happened has ruined this. Why is everyone so fucking crazy?

“Are you alright? Do I need to get Aurelius?” She asks, her voice sounding desperate. I nearly laugh – oh how they would chastise me for my current state.

“No, just... Let me get out of here.” I croak, the stomach acid still burning in my esophagus.

“Let me make a quick call first.” In a flash she’s gone, throwing her shirt on and disappearing into the hallway to one of the common phones. When she returns I’ve tucked myself back into my pants and have righted my shirt, just a little bit embarrassed about what just happened. “Haymitch wants to see you,” She replies as she shuts the door. She doesn’t dare get any closer, pressing her back against the wall and watching me carefully.

I kneel at her bedside and wipe up the remainder of my mess with a cloth, guilty for causing it in the first place. “What just happened, Delly?” My voice is quiet when I ask, still a little unsure as to whether I want to know the answer or not.

“Nothing happened,” She lies and I can see it on her face. I slam down the cloth I’ve been using and push to my feet.

“Stop lying to me!” I shout and turn away from her. I remember what’s just occurred, even if I don’t really understand it.

“Go see Haymitch.” Opening the door, she stands behind it and watches me from afar. I can see the pleading look in her eyes and the careful way she hides.

“Fine,” I snap and pull the door shut behind me.

Finding Haymitch in our unit is easy. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor when I crash into the room. He doesn’t even bother to look at me.

“You survived.”

His words catch me off guard and I frown.

“What exactly was there to survive?” He looks up at me then, cocking an eyebrow and staring me down.

“There was a broadcast. It would have triggered you. We taped it yesterday – all of us. All of the Victors. I thought you should know.”

“What exactly do you mean? All of the Victors?” I take a seat on my bed and stare at him from across the room. There isn’t the familiar hum of an episode coming on and I want to absorb as much information as I can while he’s providing it.

“Finnick. Annie. Beetee. Johanna. Me. _Katniss_.” The name on his lips gives me a jolt but it doesn’t stir anything anymore. Maybe just a feeling of hollowness.

“What did you say?”

“We talked about what’s happened to us. What’s happened to _you_ ,” He states it very carefully, watching my every movement for a flinch or a threatening gesture. I’ve got nothing. Maybe I’m still in shock from whatever’s just happened with Delly.

“Okay,” I reply, nodding my head and looking at the ground. “Is that why you tried to get me out of the cafeteria? And why Delly came to get me?”

His nod makes my skin prickle. Delly’s in on it too. My Delly. The one I can trust. Or _could_.

“Dammit,” I mutter and stand up to pace, trying desperately to process this information.

I knew two things. The first, I needed to see that video. The second, Delly. I needed to deal with Delly. Why had she distracted me like _that_? It didn’t make sense.

“How are you feeling?” Haymitch asks from his stationary place on the bed. I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head.

“Fucking pissed off. Frustrated.” I clench my fist in my sling and savour the way my whole arm vibrates with the pain.

“Not sick? Not like an episode?” I shake my head but continue pacing. He doesn’t make to stop me. “That’s good.”

“Not if you’re me,” I snap. “What are you people trying to do? Kill me? Why can’t you just tell me in one long session and just get it over with? Why can’t I know anything about myself? Why are you all _playing_ with me?” My voice cracks on the last bit as I realize that with all of this anger also comes a wide array of disappointment and hurt. They’re all liars.

“Because it would kill you,” His voice is so cold that it sends a shiver up my spine and forces me to stop pacing and look at him. “We did a scan of your brain while you were out. Your episodes are causing serious damage and we’re trying to fix it but they’re coming to fast to repair. The bump on your head really scrambled things too and so we’re looking at that. Peeta,” He sighs and steps toe-to-toe with me, gripping my arm in his hand. “This isn’t a game. We aren’t playing. We’re trying to make you better but each step forward takes us back as well. If we’re not careful, you’re going to kill yourself trying to remember.”  


	11. Chapter 11

"Would you like a sugar cube?" Finnick offers, holding out his hand towards Prim who looks at him wearily. This whole scene feels oddly familiar but I can't quite place it.

"Where did you get the sugar, Finnick?" I ask, interrupting the conversation around the table. The laughter-filled mood dies as all the heads swivel towards me with confusion written across their faces.

"Um, are you feeling alright?" Annie asks, resting her hand on my forearm and looking at me with a concerned frown.

"What do you mean? I haven't seen sugar cubes in years, is all," I reply and look at those around me. When they don't respond I frown. "What!" I shout and toss down my spoon into my bowl.

"Peeta..." Prim stares, wide eyed, from across the table. "Peeta we weren't talking about sugar. We were talking about horses and how I've never gotten to see one."

When I look around the table everyone simply nods, confirming her story and making me feel just a tad more crazy then I had before.

"Oh," I say and look down at my bowl and the splatter of my dinner on the table. I feel my cheeks heat and suddenly it feels far too close in here for comfort.

Standing with a start, I take my tray and bolt for the disposal, escaping out into the hallway where I can think in silence.

Maybe I heard someone else talking about sugar. Maybe they said it but didn't realize. But then horses - don't they like sugar?

Dammit. I'm losing it.

 

 

It happens again when I'm in my homemaking class. We’re stitching together old sheets to make warm quilts for the hospital wards when I’m back in what I remember to be the training room in the Capitol. It’s weird, the walls are a little blurry and the faces are fuzzy but I’m at the knot tying station. A feeling of warmth and happiness seems to fill me as I complete a hitch knot and turn to face my partner.

Only this time it’s not Annie in class with me.

It’s Katniss.

“How did you do that?” She exclaims, grabbing the scrap of fabric from my hands and marvelling at it. I pump out my chest and grin foolishly, relishing in the glow of her smile.

“I just did what I learned,” I reply and rest my hand on her thigh, longing to be closer.

Within a moment, she’s pushing my hand away and shoving backwards, away from me and my burning touch.

In another moment, Katniss is Annie and she’s screaming bloody murder as the blood leaves my face and I come back down to whatever sweet hell I’ve landed myself in.

Arms are grabbing my shoulders, fingers biting my skin, as I’m pulled to the floor and pinned there while others around me yell commands and Annie continues to scream.

I remember her screams now. I remember them accompanying Johanna’s back in the Capitol. I remember being held down just like this as the nurse raked her nails down my chest and drew blood across my hips.

I remember things so much worse.

 

 

“Mr Mellark, please stop moving,” The voice over the intercom in the machine freezes me in my effort to scratch my nose. Resting my hand back at my side I fight the urge to relieve myself of that itch, turning my mind to anything else that isn’t this place and this machine and the fact that I’m killing myself.

It finally sank in when I blacked out again.

I’m dying. I’m going to kill myself trying to get back what I’ve lost.

“Mr Mellark, stop!” The voice shouts again and I realize that my hand is at my nose, rubbing it raw.

Another lost moment. I’m losing them faster than I can get them. Eventually I won’t have any awareness left. They keep trying to tell me to just _live_ but I can’t without _knowing_.

I want to know Katniss, even if she doesn’t want me to. I want to know what’s real and what isn’t. Was that _really_ Delly the other day, or was I flashing back? Can I even get back my memories ever?

It’s another half hour of pondering the endless questions before the machine is spitting me out, back into the waiting arms of Lily and her team. She’s been given a team now to deal with me. It’s the worst thing to realize.

“Back to the ward?” I question, gripping my paper robes at the back to try and preserve any dignity that I have left. Lily nods and grabs my arm, guiding me down the endless hallways and towards the same room that they’ve basically transformed into my tomb.

“We’ll have the results in an hour. Would you like me to wait with you?” She asks when I’m safely tucked back in my bed.

“No, I’m alright,” I sigh and turn over, facing towards the cement wall that’s become so familiar to me now. I know every pock mark and every dent in its surface.

“I’ll see you soon then,” She chirps brightly and closes the door behind her.

Since returning to the ward after my ‘assault’ on Annie, Finnick has come by diligently to reaffirm that he’s still my friend. I can barely look him in the eye when he appears, all careful smiles and perfect hair. But once we’re past the greetings and the reminders that I didn’t do anything wrong and that Annie had a bad reaction as well, he starts to joke again and tell me stories of the outside world.

He’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend. Though the others are kind, they’re not committed to actually easing my mind and forcing me to think about other things. In a sense, I’d even say he’s quite close to being my best form of treatment.

Especially now that Delly’s gone AWOL. Like really gone missing. Haymitch had told me one afternoon when I’d finally asked where she was that she’d been sent on a recall mission in District 7. That she hadn’t checked in on time. That they couldn’t find her.

I remember that afternoon trying not to be confused and terrified. In the time when we’d been close she’d focused in on defensive tactics in the Dark Days – it only made sense that she joined the effort eventually. I just wished she’d told me more or even seen me since the incident in her room – the one I still couldn’t really decipher in my mind.

I’m just about nearly to sleep when I hear the door creak open behind me.

“Go away,” I mumble into my pillow and steel myself for whoever’s there.

I’d rather not have company when I find out my brain has gone even more mushy since the last scan.

I listen for the door to close but it never comes. Whoever arrived never left and I hate the feeling of being watched ever since I first came to this place and Katniss spent hours watching me through the window.

“Seriously, can you not just leave me alone?” I bark and twist in my sheets, swinging my body over to look the opposite way. “I just want to be left-“ My words die in my throat when I see her, standing hesitantly in the doorway of my room with her hands in fists by her sides.

“She wants to see you but now they won’t let her. It’s not fair,” Johanna croaks through her clearly damaged voice box. Her hair is spiked (what remains of it at least) and her body is so thin that she looks like a skeleton with skin.

“Who?” I ask, not daring to move for fear of frightening her away.

“Don’t be a dumbass. Don’t try to remember. Just try to deal with it,” Her command is clear as she bolts down the hallway leaving my door wide open. I stare after her for a while, still not moving from my leaning position on my pillow. It seems too risky to move – like I could break the chance of seeing her right now.

After a long while, when still nobody comes, I lay back down on my bed and close my eyes, slipping into a light sleep.

 

 

“It’s as we expected. Your condition is static for the time being and seems to be responding well to medications,” The man states mechanically. He’s a new doctor, one that apparently specializes in brain activity (though I’m not quite sure how he made it to District 13). We all wait for him to continue, “But, any progression is very alarming at this stage. Your episodes are gaining in frequency and though it’s hard to see on the scans, it’s definitely something that’s concerning.”

At his words, I look to Lily and Aurelius who stand side by side, both faces masking any reaction that they have to his news. I can’t blame them; they’ve tried so hard to fix me. My body’s failure is something they see as their fault.

“Alright. Well, thanks. That’s top notch news,” I mutter and smile sadly at my team, laying back down on my bed and silently asking to be left alone to wallow.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Aurelius asks as Lily leaves and takes the new doctor with her. I shake my head into my pillow and sigh deeply.

“I’m just going to sleep, I think.”

 

 

There’s somebody at my back, nestled into my spine and giving me warmth. Though it’s not cold in my room, it’s not hot either, and this feels just perfect.

But there shouldn’t be anyone at my back and I don’t understand why I’m not panicking. In fact, I feel beyond calm. I almost feel _home_.

That’s the moment I realize that this isn’t right in any sense.

If I weren’t trapped by the wall I’d bolt from the bed but given my situation the only option that I have is to roll over and face down the intruder who’s gotten too close. It takes but a second and then I’m staring her down, watching her eyes widen in fear as she wakes and realizes the predicament that she’s found herself in.

“You were having a nightmare, I thought... This always used to help.” She sputters but fails to move away, lingering in her place under my blanket.

“I... It’s okay.” I say after a moment, gauging the way my body tenses and then releases when it doesn’t build a reaction to her words. Though the scenario is weird, even for me, I don’t feel threatened at all. There is undoubtedly something between Katniss Everdeen and I that relaxes me. Something that I know means something more.

We stare at each other in silence for a moment longer, each waiting for the other to make the first move. I don’t want her to go, but I don’t know what to do with her here. She’s still a stranger, despite all the stories in my head and the way my hands just itch to pull her closer. My body may remember her, but I sure don’t.

“I should go,” She mumbles after a while and moves to slip out of the bed. I stop her, gripping my hand around her wrist as my eyes beg her desperately. This is the closest I’ve been to discovering anything about her and I dare not let the moment slip away before I learn more.

This had been what Johanna was talking about – this moment right here.

“Stay. Stay please.” When she doesn’t move any farther away I think I’ve convinced her, though for the first time it doesn’t take much. In the spare moment while she decides I let my gaze fall over her, taking in the sight of her and the way the wounds have healed on her face and how she looks to be about as steady as possible, given the fresh scars that now litter her skin.

“They tell me you’re sick,” She states, her voice vacant.

“That’s what they tell me too,” I reply and look away, guilty for my body’s failings. When I look back, she’s biting her lip between her teeth and closing her eyes, her expression almost one of terrible pain.

“I’m sorry I made you do this alone,” She whispers, grabbing my hand in hers and squeezing. It doesn’t really make sense – she had no obligation to me, not really, but she’s acting like she did. And she’s here in my bed which is particularly unorthodox, considering every time I’ve met her she’s pushed me away.

“I don’t really understand why you’re here,” I reply, seemingly gathering myself together and asking for something honest from someone.

“I’ve been away. They had me fighting. But I’ve developed something and so they won’t let me go anymore. And I can’t be here and not see you. You should know everything – they’ve been talking about it in their meetings. They’re too afraid to tell you in case it gets bad – but I think you should try it. I want you to remember. Peeta, I _need_ you to remember,” Her hands move from their clutches in mine and brush against my cheeks, her skin burning into mine. I try to take in her words, try to understand what she’s telling me, but it’s only frazzled and jumbled bits.

“What’s wrong with you?” It seems like the most basic question I can ask, the caring question, the one that should be asked after that spew of words. Not to mention the way my gut seems to clench at the thought of her being sick too.

“Don’t! Stop doing that. I’m here to help you this time – We’re going to save you this time, like we should have in the Arena,” She’s nearly shouting and I feel myself inadvertently recoil. Our quiet conversation has evolved into a frantic mess.

“I don’t understand Katniss. I don’t understand why you’re here – why now? I don’t even _know_ you. All I know is that there’s something about you and that I can’t figure it out, like a puzzle that I can’t solve. I don’t understand anything and it’s driving me insane!” I yell, sitting up and putting some much needed space between us. Heroes are not what I need – what I need is something tangible.

“Peeta!” She’s kneeling before me now, her hands on my knees as I recognize that her body is slow to move. My face must show my concern because she faces me head on and frowns. “Stop thinking about me. You always do this – don’t put me first right now. It’ll only get you killed,” She takes in a breath and looks at me steady, her eyes boring into mine. “Do you want me to tell you everything? It might set you off. It might hurt. But it might _work_.”

Taking a moment, I lean back in my spot and press my back up against the wall. The dark light in my room, coupled with the red numbers that warn me that it’s the early morning, convince me that this is actually insanity. That I must be dreaming. She’s not really here, offering salvation or death.

This isn’t real.

There’s only one way to find out. Hesitating, I pull in a breath and lift my fingers to her chin. I close my eyes at her touch, exploring her face and taking in the feel of it. Memorizing the skin of her cheek, the swoop of her brow, the touch of her hair.

“Real or not real?” I murmur, letting the feel of her fill me and rouse old stories or memories or whatever they are.

“You loved me, Peeta,” Her response catches me off guard and my eyes shock open, staring wide into hers. Her fingers find mine still lingering on her collarbone, my thumb caressing the scar that runs from her shoulder to her neck, as she grips my hand tight in hers.

“I know,” And I do. I remember that. I remember the way I’d felt when I painted the picture that Annie saved. I understand that only if there was something more to Katniss would I be okay with waking up next to her. My body remembers her. My hands are familiar with her touch.

I love Katniss Everdeen, the symbol of hope, the Mockingjay.

The thought is terrifying.


	12. Chapter 12

“Do you understand how this is going to work?”

“I think so.”

“And you understand the possible consequences?”

“Yes.”

“And you still wish to proceed?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop asking me that. I know what’s at stake. I could die. I get it. But this is all I have and at least if I die I’ll have one goddamn moment of understanding what the hell is happening to me.”

“You might not get that moment.”

The restraints click into place over my wrists and the room is thrust into darkness, surrounding me and drowning me in its thickness. I have to tell myself to relax.

My body feels like it’s strung tighter than a bow.

The TV across the room flickers to life and I feel Katniss slip her hand into my restrained one.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” She whispers and squeezes my fingers tightly in hers.

I don’t really remember when this became an ‘us’ thing versus a ‘me’ thing. There’s a possibility that I’ve lost some time, but it’s also pretty goddamn possible that this just _happens_ now. People just seem to _happen_ in my life. I look over to the light shining off of Katniss’ profile and my chest tightens. She doesn’t notice me looking at her before my attention is drawn back to the screen where Haymitch is seated, hand clutching a mug in his lap. His hair is brushed and tied back and the scruff on his face looks to be at least a day old.

“I’m one of the oldest living Victors – did you know that? I won my Games when I was 16 about 25 years ago...” He pauses, looking up from his glass and right into the video lens. “And I’m one of the oldest. Isn’t that foolish? Us Victors, we don’t have a tendency to live long. No, the Capitol promises long lives but we rarely make it past 40,” He shuffles in his seat uncomfortably and we, the audience, suffer a longer pause. I take the time to evaluate my position and how I’m feeling.

Still kicking.

“I’ve seen a lot of people destroyed by the Capitol directly. I’ve seen a lot of them destroy themselves. But the worst part is when they have _you_ do it under threat. They take your families. They take your friends. They take everything including your sanity. And they take it all just when you think you’ve finally made it out – when you think you’re untouchable. The rug is ripped out. And they destroy you or watch you or encourage you to destroy yourself.”

He finishes looking into the camera, his hand shaking as he lifts the mug to his lips and takes a sip. We know what’s in that cup. It’s a subtle hint of what the Capitol has done to him.

The lights flicker on above us and I watch Katniss out of the corner of my eye. She doesn’t shift or turn towards me as Aurelius re-enters the room and comes to my bedside. I think maybe she’s crying but I don’t ask.

“How was that? We thought starting you off with someone familiar would be good. And he didn’t go into many details so it was an easy one. What are you thinking about?” Aurelius probes, his hands holding steady to the notebook that he scribbles in.

“Can I have my hands back?” I ask clearly, looking at him and trying to convey the desperation I feel without pleading. Aurelius turns to the window and taps his wrist, signalling for the straps to be removed. As soon as my hands are free, I lean forward and brush a stray tear from Katniss’ chin.

“Peeta, how do _you_ feel?” Aurelius prompts and when I look at him he’s frowning. Katniss doesn’t move under my touch and so I rest my hand over hers and refocus my attention on his questioning.

“I’m thinking about how much harder it’s going to get. And how I’m ready for it. I think I know Haymitch enough to know of his demons so that was okay. If...” I pause and flick my eyes back to Katniss carefully. “I could probably do the rest alone if it’s too much.” I finish and drop my hands back into position, mentally readying myself for the straps that snap back into place.

“Don’t you dare,” She hisses and her hand settles back over mine.

“Well, alright then. Let’s continue,” Aurelius states and slips from the room. The darkness swamps back in and for a moment I want to call for it all to stop. I’m soothed only by the slow brush of Katniss’ thumb drawing circles on my knuckles and the cool steel below my palm.

The TV flickers back to life and I’m startled by the image of Annie. Her testimony is even more fractured and aloof than Haymitch’s, moving from place to place and story to story without any real consistency. I remember that it was likely taped on one of her bad days and my body tenses, remembering why she has so damn many of them.

It was all the cells in the Capitol. All the water they filled our areas with. Our feet would be waterlogged for days and we were sure that they would rot off. I’d never seen wrinkles so deep in my skin – not even after hours in the bath. Our skin would usually rub off so easily after that – opening us up to bleeding and infection.

My body tenses as she recalls the water and the way one of my pictures of the District 4 ocean set her off. She lifts it up to the camera and I remember the image vaguely. It takes only a moment for it to click into place.

“Aurelius!” I shout and the lights burst on and Katniss has her hand on my forehead as the doctor runs into the room. “That picture! It was the same day as that video Haymitch showed me. Do you remember?” My body has turned to him as much as possible within the restraints as I try to get the truth from him. He nods and my head throbs.

“Are you alright?” Lily asks from the door. I watch as Katniss stiffens over me and turns to her mother.

“Yes – let’s keep going,” I reply and try to force my body to relax back onto the bed. Everyone slips from the room and the TV is back with a snap.

“You really start to know things about people by the sound of their screams, that’s for sure,” Johanna is gracing the screen, pacing back and forth and tapping her hands on her thighs. She looks filthy, unwashed and hair matted in its dishevelled way.

She looks nothing like the vicious Capitol beauty that I remember them making her out to be. I remember a recap of the Games from a few years ago when I was still in 12. They’d dressed her up with her long hair and bright red lipstick that she’d smacked together with a pop on every word. My brother had been excited by her, but I’d never understood the desire. She’d been terrifying to me.

Now she just looked broken beyond words.

“I mean, I spent almost three months in lockdown with them. You learn what makes them tick, what unhinges them, which toe when zapped gets the best pitch of scream. Better yet, you learn their secret desires and what’s going through their heads when it’s finally quiet enough to sleep.

“Annie Cresta, for example, really likes the starfish on the beach. She likes the way they tickle and how Finnick Odair always brings her one when he comes home. She would never stop talking about that, unless she was screaming.

“Or we could talk about Peeta Mellark. There’s a gem who... well... Let’s just say his screams got inside. He and Katniss, you’ll probably remember, had a joke on the beach in the Quell that I really just didn’t understand. Something about pearls and coal and pressure? Anyways, he would yell for hours and then ramble on about this pearl and diamonds. He had it bad-“

“I don’t remember this,” I mutter desperately, tearing my eyes away from the screen and into the blackness where I knew Katniss had retreated to. She was back at my side in an instant, her hand gripping mine as Johanna continued.

“He loved her. I didn’t think she returned it – not really – until after the Tour. But he would go on and on and on for _hours_ in his sleep,” She pauses and takes a breath, rubbing her sweaty palms along her pants and then lifting her fingers to her hair. Her shirt lifts up with her arms and you can see her ribs and the garish way her hip bones jut out. “You learn a lot of things from people’s screams. And what they say when they’re not screaming.”

She finishes and the headache crashes into me with such force that I have to bite my lip until it bleeds as my feet kick out with the pain that overwhelms me. A set of memories from the Capitol comes back into my mind and they’re like beating waves against the shore.

And I remember the shore now, as though I was there yesterday. Katniss had played with the children while I’d sat on the beach.

“We’re going to subdue you with some morphling, Peeta. To stave off the worst of your reaction,” Lily calls from my side as I feel the needle slip home into my skin. I can’t open my eyes so I use my fingers, still restrained, to prod around the metal railing in the hopes that Katniss will come back to me. She’s calming and I need her and I just want her to touch me because I’m so fucking scared that this will be it and I won’t get to see the ending.

I want to get to love her again. Everyone keeps telling me it was real. I groan as my hand still only finds empty air and the drugs enter my system. I can’t speak and I can’t look and I just want – ah. Oh. There.

The calm relief of the morphling pours through my system and I feel my bangs being brushed back off my forehead. When I open my eyes, it’s not Katniss at my bedside but Lily. I’m disappointed, only until I notice Katniss huddled in the corner with Haymitch by her side, soothingly speaking to her through what I think are tears.

I watch until I’m not awake anymore.

 


	13. Chapter 13

I’m allowed to take a few days off from my sessions, as though it’s something that since I’ve agreed to start I’m not allowed to stop. It’s kinda funny in a way, the way they’re all treating me now, like every meal is my last and every action is to be a precious memory.

It makes me nervous. It really makes me think that I’m going to just drop dead at any moment. I don’t think I am, personally, but that could be my disillusionment with myself. The memories that have come back have really painted me as kind of a badass. I mean, two Hunger Games, a missing leg, dying and then coming back, being tortured. I’ve come out on top in my humble opinion.

But I think they all look at the wheelchair I’ve been forced into and consider me a lost shot or a suicidal fool who’s ‘dead’ set (pardon the pun) on getting my memories back.

They don’t get it. Not really. Honestly, they try to understand but they have no idea what it’s like to deteriorate and not remember anything or the people who matter. They can’t possibly understand what it’s like to know and hear from everyone that the one person you’ve apparently loved for your whole life is standing right in front of you but you can’t really _remember_ what it feels like.

That’s the worst part of all of this. No matter how hard I try to get it all back, it’s not enough. There are feelings and memories and little bits of tender moments here and there, but it’s almost as if Katniss has relegated me to a project she’s determined to finish.

The way she acts makes me doubt if she even loves me at all.

Every time I go through a session she’s there but at the end we’re always apart. It’s as though each time takes a toll on her and she can’t get past it. I know it hurts her to hear about all of these things – I mean, they are the stuff of nightmares – I just wish she wouldn’t fall apart. It makes it that much harder for me to hold it together when she falls apart.

I don’t want her to be hurting because of this. It’s my mission, not hers. I want her to be happy.

I think I’ve always wanted her to be happy, even when I’d decided to die for her again in the Quell. I remember that now, vividly. God, I’d loved her something fierce.

As in the past sense. Right now I didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore. One moment I was sure that it was love, the next I was convinced it was just a ploy.

I turn my chair down the hallway to the entrance of the cafeteria. The bustle of the lunch time crowd has seemed to fade a bit with the hour getting late and I’m thankful for that. This place is a nightmare on wheels - you can’t get anywhere and people stare at you like you’re a leper.

Quite possibly in 13 you _are_ a leper when you can’t contribute to the operation of the grand machine.

I look through the window in the doorway for a moment and stare at the people sitting for their meal. Maybe they are just waiting for me kick it so I stop wasting health resources. I probably go through a mountain of morphling every month with the way Lily loads that stuff into my IV drip.

“Looking for some company?” Finnick asks brightly from behind me and I have to twist around in my chair, offering him a cocky smile in return.

Apparently facing down death makes me more of a confident asshole sometimes.

“Not really, but I guess you’ll do,” I reply and force my chair through the doorway. When I feel the seat pick up speed and I realize that he’s pushing it from behind I spin around and scowl. “Could you not? I’m not dead yet,” I snark. His hands jump from the bars as though shocked and he looks ahead of me. Turning back around, I see we’re not quite alone. Katniss has overheard my exchange and is frowning slightly from her table, watching me as the man next to her rests his palm on her shoulder.

My stomach churns and the bite in my attitude dies. I remember this man. He’d carried her away back when I first got to 13. When she used to watch me for hours.

I don’t think I want to be here anymore. My hands find my wheels and I make to back up and turn around but run over Finnick’s metal foot in the process. He feigns indignant and takes my chair by the bars again.

“Don’t be stupid kid, let’s just get you some lunch,” He mumbles and pushes me towards the counter where I’m handed a pre-filled tray.

I can’t reach high enough to serve myself from this level. I hate this shit.

Placing the food on my lap I reluctantly make my way towards Katniss, rolling up to the side of the table and blocking the walkway. I’ve stopped caring about being an inconvenience to the people of 13. I might not be here much longer; they can walk around me until then.

Smiling sadly I look up from my pathetic portion of food to Katniss who’s quietly conversing with this man I’m not comfortable with. When she turns back to me, his hand drops from her shoulder and he stares at me for a long while.

I hate the staring.

“What?” I bark, tearing into a roll and trying to stare him down in return. I see a faint hint of red colour his cheeks and Katniss frowns.

“Have you met Gale?” Katniss asks, gesturing over her shoulder to where Gale sits. The man reaches out a hand towards me and I take it politely, squeezing his hand in mine tightly.

I may or may not be jealous.

“No, but I think I remember bits of him from home. Squirrels, right? You traded with my father?” I ask and the image of this man as a boy comes flooding back into my head. It only throbs temporarily and I have to place my bun down as I take in the smell of bread and the heat of the ovens.

“Are you alright?” Katniss asks and shifts closer to where I’m parked, resting her hand on my forehead and brushing my brow with her thumb. It feels amazing.

“Enough of that lovey dovey shit!” Finnick calls as he practically bombs into the table, chuckling. When I can open my eyes again, Katniss is still staring me down and Gale is frowning. “Eat up everyone or they’ll steal your plates,” Finnick reminds, breaking us out of our moment and returning my attention to my meal before me.

“Yes on the squirrels. Although, Katniss was the one who shot them. She just was a terrible haggler so she made me make all the deals,” Gale responds to my earlier question, his tone lighter than what I imagined it would be.

The jealousy bubbles up in me when I remember seeing him playing with her braid at school one day. I have to stuff my face with the sweet potato mash in my bowl in order to stop myself from speaking.

Lunch seems to pass by with a greater ease than I thought it would. When it’s over, I make to leave with my tray but I’m stunned when Gale gathers it up and claims he’s heading out that way as well.

“Are you coming to the armoury, Katniss?” Gale asks as he steps up from the table and removes the tray from my lap. I can’t look at Finnick or anyone so instead I look at the table. I feel like an invalid here.

“I’m going to take Peeta back to the ward and I’ll meet you down there – is that alright?” She asks, not even bothering to ask me if it’s alright that she pushes me around and babies me.

I can’t stand it anymore. With a solid push I back up from the table and force my wheels forward and towards the cafeteria entrance, ignoring the shouts from behind me.

“Peeta wait!” Katniss shouts and she’s caught up to me in no time, my escape not really being a challenge. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the ward. I can get there myself, you go with Gale,” I reply and push my wheels forward again until I feel my chair jerk. When I turn around, Katniss is gripping the handle as her mouth hangs open in shock. I see Finnick raise a brow, and Gale watch carefully from a distance. “Can you please _not_ do that?” I ask, motioning with my head to her hand on the handle.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, frowning. I don’t want to do this right now. I’m too tired to deal with this.

“I can get there myself. I don’t need you or anyone else dotting over me. I’m fine! Stop treating me like I’m this fragile thing,” I snap and lurch my chair forward and into the door. I don’t stop when it pinches my foot on the rest, ignoring the pain that simmers up to my hip. I’m halfway down the hallway when Finnick appears, walking beside me with a steady pace.

“What was that all about?” He prompts as we continue to walk. I sigh, realizing that I probably overreacted a bit back there.

“Don’t treat me like I’m dying – okay?”

“That’s not what we’re doing, Peeta,” He replies, pulling up short and stopping. I’m forced to stop as well, feeling a little bit guilty for my behaviour.

“That’s how it feels. I’m not an invalid. I can get around on my own, get my meals, deal with myself just fine. But you’re all treating me like I’m some fragile thing that’s going to break,” My voice is quiet as I stare at the floor, not quite willing to make eye contact.

“You are sick though. We’re trying to help as best we can,” Finnick argues and I scoff under my breath.

“I don’t think I’m that sick. Sure, my brains a little mushy and my legs might be acting up, but its working. I’m getting them back, bit by bit.” All I see is his shoulders slump a little before he pulls it together and gives me a once over.

“You know you look like shit right now, right?” He crouches down before me, one hand resting on my chair arm and the other pulling my finger and lifting my hand. The nails are bloody down to the bit and I don’t remember that happening. I tug it back and tuck it into my side, trying to hide the evidence. “You’re pale. You keep forgetting things. You might get memories but you lose some too. I’m not telling you what to do – that’s not why I’m saying this. I just wanted to say that I prefer you very much alive and if it means forgetting the past and just moving on, then I’ll make sure that happens for you. I’ll get you out of here after the war. You, Annie, Katniss and I – we’ll go and hide out for a while. I promise it.”

I want to tell him to back off. To stop forcing me into a corner. I know what I’m doing is destroying me – I’m not oblivious. I just want it to work so badly.

“It’ll be alright,” I reply and nod my head, confirming it. Finnick lets out an exasperated sigh and stands up.

“Fine. Do you want a hand getting back to the ward?”

“Might as well, since you’re here,” I smile bitterly and he reaches to turn me around, whizzing us down the hallways as though we’re on a roller coaster.

 

 

“I thought you were spending the afternoon in the armory?” I ask when Katniss pokes her head in my door. I’ve gotten myself back into my bed and I’m drawing in my notebook, recapping all of the flashes of memories that I’ve had today.

For the first time in a long time, my head doesn’t ache when I do it. Is it too hopeful to consider it progress?

“That’s what my schedule says, but I wanted to come see you for a while,” She answers and steps into the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her. I watch her as she limps towards me and I frown, noticing that her walk is a little more unsteady than normal. “Don’t ask,” She mutters and crawls up into the bed beside me. I shift as much of my torso over as I can, moving to close my notebook before she slips her hands between the pages. “Can I see?”

Opening it back up to the image I was working on, I hear her make a small sound in her throat when she sees the beach of the Quell.

“Is it good that you’re remembering?” She inquires quietly, looking up from my drawing and meeting my eyes.

“Undoubtedly.” Her grey depths bore into mine and I feel my stomach flip.

“Why do you want to remember all of that? All I want is so badly to forget it all. I don’t understand why you want it...”

“I _need_ it. Katniss, I can’t remember half of what makes me who I am. Do you understand that?”

“But you don’t need it – you’re good. You don’t need the memories to make you who you are,” Her voice is almost pleading and I have to shake my head at her.

“There are so many moments where people think I’m this good guy and I don’t know why. They’re all convinced...” I pause and look away, squinting into the fluorescent light above my bed. I feel her hand on my chin, forcing my eyes back to hers. “Everyone is convinced that I love you.”

My blunt words make her blink, her body shifting backwards and away from me as the implication is put forward.

“Do...No, I don’t need to know,” She murmurs and pulls away, shifting herself off the bed. As she steps down, she hisses and I see her knuckles go white on the sheet. I reach over and grip her fist tightly in mine, silently pleading with her to not run from me when it gets hard.

“I don’t know,” I nearly shout as she moves to pull away. “Katniss – what do you expect from me? How could I love you when every time I try to connect with you, you push me away? You won’t tell me what’s wrong with you, to start. How am I supposed to love you if I don’t know if you even want me to? Was that not half of the way the Capitol controlled us?” I’m nearly yelling at the end, gripping her hand so tightly in mine.

“I want you to,” I barely hear it, but she says it. I tug her hand, hoping she’ll climb back up next to me but she hesitates.

“But?” I prompt and she turns to face me with a terrified look on her face.

“What if you don’t make it?” That’s when the tears start. They’re silent and sad and I think that that is the bridge that we need to cross. Neither of us can commit with this threat hanging over us – unless we both take the leap.

“Come here,” I whisper and tug her hand again. She doesn’t stop this time when she climbs in beside me and tosses my notebook onto the side table. Resting her head on my chest I feel her fingers pressing into the skin of my side as her tears soak my shirt. “I’m going to be fine,” I whisper like a mantra, smoothing her hair and pressing a slow kiss to her forehead. Her sobs rack against my chest and it feels hard to breathe.

“Before. You said before that you loved me for a long time,” She states after she’s cried herself dry.

“I think so.”

“And you don’t love me now?”

“Honestly?” She nods her head on my chest, not daring to look at me. “I don’t know. I want to. There’s something between us that I don’t understand. But it’s different now. We’re lopsided, I think,” I finish and she looks up.

“Lopsided?” She quirks her eyebrow towards me.

“You treat me like a project. We’re all about me. Call me stupid, but I think if I’m going to love you it needs to be more _us_ and not _me_ ,” I shrug and close my eyes lightly, revelling in the feeling of her breathing next to me. She tucks her cheek back against my chest and for a long while we don’t talk.

“They don’t know what’s wrong with me,” She whispers after a while, her fingers brushing over my chest in a circular pattern and if I weren’t tense from her words I would likely be feeling something _else_. I keep silent, hoping she’ll understand that I want to know more. “When I was out fighting I was kind of a wreck. I don’t know if Haymitch told you, but he thinks Coin was sending me hoping I’d take care of business.”

“What?” I grip her hand in mine, stilling her movements as surprise runs through me. “She what?”

“I wasn’t fit to be in the field. Our commander, Boggs, tried to hold me back but she sent me anyways. That’s how Finnick got injured – he was trying to get me out of an underground tunnel system when mutts took his leg,” She pauses, her words startling me as she talks about the things that I didn’t know and could possibly never have known. “He nearly died on that mission because I was losing it. But she kept sending me out. In District 2 I got shot in the hip.”

Her hand shifts her shirt and waistband aside as she shows me her scar, still a violent red on her olive skin. My hand quickly finds hers and when I look at her, I silently ask before my fingers connect with her skin and slide over the raised mark.

“Katniss,” I whisper softly and suddenly I’m terrified that I could have lost her. That I still can.

“I don’t know if I did it on purpose or if it was just fate, but the bullet caught me and it got infected or something. My mother says it’s not healing properly but she doesn’t know why,” She looks up at me then and I can see my concern mirrored in her eyes. “I’m okay though,” She nods and I feel myself nodding in return before I pull her tightly against me.

“I’m sorry they did that to you,” My words get lost in her hair and the heavy way my chest seems to heave with each breath.

She could have died and I’d never have known. I suddenly have a flash of the emergency broadcast that had come through so long ago and the words hit me like a brick wall. The Mockingjay was lost. District 2 wasn’t the first time they’d gotten close to killing her. I shudder to think of all of the times things had gotten tense here and I hadn’t understood the implications.  

“Do you remember when I wanted to run away?” She breaks the silence with her words spoken into my shoulder. I pull back and smile down at her.

“You never would have left,” I reply and laughter escapes from me when she slaps my chest lightly.

“I would have – if it hadn’t been winter,” She states and we get lost in the memory. It’s getting late – I’m not sure how long we’ve been here but surely dinner has passed by now. I don’t mind, not even a bit.

“I’ve got another session tomorrow – will you be here?” Tomorrow we’ll be watching the remainder of the Victor’s Voices segment and I’m nervous.

“I’ll always be with you, Peeta,” She murmurs quietly, looking up towards me. I see her tongue shoot out and wet her lips nervously and the vision sends a pang through me. I don’t hesitate – seizing the moment and pressing my lips to hers with an uncertain fervor. It’s unexpected and fast and just what I needed to face tomorrow.

With the way I’m going, it could be my last chance to kiss her. She must see it too when she pulls back because suddenly the air is tight and she’s pressing back against me.

“It’ll be alright,” Again, it’s another statement. A surety that I’ll still be alive tomorrow. “I should go back to our unit,” She says when we break apart and gasp for breath.

“Stay. We don’t have to... We don’t have to do anything. Just stay,” I plead lowly, watching her shift on the bed carefully. She watches me for a moment, her fingers splaying across my chest tentatively.

“Okay.”

She pulls the covers over us as the light flickers into its evening red haze in my room. When she curls into my side, I know how easily it would be to love her for real and in the open.

If I stick around long enough, maybe I’ll even convince myself of it.


	14. Chapter 14

“Tell me when it gets to be too much,” Aurelius reminds, staring at me and waiting for me to agree. We both know the agreement is rather futile – I’m determined to watch this video through regardless of how I handle it.

“He will,” Katniss answers for me and slides her hand over mine on the railing of the bed. The restraints are back on but we’re all pretty convinced that I’ve got nothing threatening left to offer. I couldn’t get out of bed, let alone injure anyone seriously in my current state.

“Alright, let’s get this going,” He calls as he slips out the door and disappears from sight. I catch Katniss watching me out of the corner of my eye just before the lights dim and I give her a small smile, shifting until my fingers can brush her palm.

“Always,” I whisper and the TV flickers to life.

The shot is steady for a moment as we look upon an empty chair in a grey room somewhere in the District. When Finnick comes into view, limping over with his cane in hand and sitting in the chair we’re granted a shot of someone dabbing at his nose with some make up before he huffs and glares to the corner of the screen.

“This one’s for you, old man,” He mumbles and turns to meet the camera’s eye.

“This is the unedited version,” Katniss hisses beside me, the tightness in her voice telling more than it should. My eyes are glued to the screen, soaking in every detail about my friend as he prepares.

“Hello, my name is Finnick Odair. You might know me from any one of my Capitol appearances, or, you may know me because you bought me. Either way, you think you know me, but trust me, I know more about you than you’d like to think,” The idea of what Finnick is beginning to say creeps in and I tense up, nervous about what I’m going to hear as he runs a hand through his hair. “You traded me your secrets for a good fuck. You screamed my name while I considered how best to kill you in your sleep. None of you Capitol hounds are without folly – I know something about you all, especially you, Coriolanus, I know the most about you.

“Like, why your breath reeks of iron. Or why the botanists in your private gardens generate such powerful roses. No, you are not safe from the stories little birds have told me,” Taking a sip of the glass of water off screen, we hear Haymitch in the background reminding him that he doesn’t have to do this. Finnick grins and jokes, flipping him the bird as he mouths off that he does. That if anyone needs to speak up, it’s him.

“You’ve killed or ordered killed 342 Panem citizens in the last ten years, Coriolanus. Have you been keeping count? I have, and I’m not even including the kids you’ve killed in the Games. No, I’m talking about the Victors, their families, powerful people who challenged you so you drank the poison alongside them and grinned over your victory remedy while they choked on their own vomit across the table.”

My heart beat picks up at his words, skipping every so often as I become lightheaded and woozy.

“And that’s not the worst of it, is it?” He continues and I silently beg him to finish soon as my head throbs. “You organized the trade of children for money – do you remember that? You sold me at fifteen. Johanna Mason at sixteen,” Pausing, we see him look to the side of the camera and smile sadly at someone who I’m pretty sure is Johanna. “You planned to sell Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen as well but they were saved by the Quell.”

He laughs ironically as my hands jerk in the restraints and I want to pull Katniss against me and protect her from this. I can’t bear the thought of it all – the notion that she would have been sold to the highest bidder.

“Shhh,” She whispers, her fingers grazing my forehead as I struggle to sit up. Her eyes watch me sadly, as though she already knows this truth and has adapted to its recount. I look at for another moment as she returns her gaze stoically to the TV and I realize that I’ve missed part of the video.

“When we escaped from the Arena, you took the one person who would have ended this war at the start. But you knew that, didn’t you? You went after Mellark before you even went after the girl because you knew it would weaken her. You knew she’d be tarnished and likely finish herself if she thought he was gone,” He pauses carefully and I watch as his head sinks to look in his lap while he fiddles with a rope that he’s pulled from somewhere. When he returns his gaze to the camera, it’s on fire with loathing. “I guess you knew better than any of us how much she loved him because we’re still at war now. And you’ve ruined them both, and taken my leg, and devastated thousands of lives. 

“ _But_ we _are_ still at war, Coriolanus, and we live because that’s what you forced us to do – didn’t you? Just remember that we’re the Victors that you made us – Vicious and vengeful.”

At the end, the video doesn’t cut out like it should. Instead it stays running as Finnick looks into the wings and smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs to someone off screen.

“Don’t be sorry for the truth,” Katniss replies as she appears on screen and wraps her arms around his neck in a strong embrace.

The light flickers on overhead as the video pauses. I see Katniss swirl into my vision above me as she calls my name and brings me back to the present. I blink a few times and force my breathing to return to normal as her fingers run the length of my cheek.

“Are you alright?” She whispers as the door opens behind her.

“I didn’t realize. I didn’t know,” I blurt out and try to lift my arms to her but I’m still stuck. My eyes scan the room, panicked for a moment. “Restraints? Please?”

“Peeta,” She calls, meeting my gaze with a new intensity that gets under my skin.

“We’re stopping,” Lily calls from the doorway as Aurelius walks past her to my bedside.

“What? No!” I shout and try to sit up but my damn arms are still restrained. “Dammit, get this shit off of me!” I yell and look to where Aurelius considers me for a moment.

“Peeta,” Katniss calls again and lifts my hand in hers to her lips. I don’t feel the motion.

I don’t feel anything.

“Lily,” I cry out, realizing that I’ve lost control of my arms. The thought is terrifying.

When I lost the use of my legs, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It had happened overnight while I slept and it hadn’t been much of a shock after losing my leg the first time around. But this was different. This had happened in a matter of moments. My brain had decided enough was enough and made the decision for me.

Lily is at my bedside in an instant, running simple diagnostic sensory tests as my eyes flit between a stunned Aurelius and Katniss who still hasn’t let go of my hand.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Aurelius mutters next to me over and over like a drone.

“Get out of here! And take that blasted screen with you!” Lily shouts and turns to physically push Aurelius from my bedside. When she returns, grasping at my elbow and desperately checking for my pulse, I can see the fear in her eyes as my heart pounds away in my chest. “Katniss, you should go,” She instructs.

Alarm coursing through me, I watch as Katniss calmly looks to her mother. Their gazes lock for a moment and Lily curses quietly over me, understanding as her daughter turns back towards me and leans forward until our noses are nearly touching.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Her voice is tight and I can see the tears she’s refusing to let fall. I want to hold her, I want to bury my face in her hair, I want to never let her go but I can’t even _touch_ her.

“Katniss,” I’ve resorted to names as my mantras, calling out to those around me who I trust the most in this terror that consumes me. Closing my eyes tight, I focus on moving my fingers in her hands, but it doesn’t work.

“What happened?” I hear the body crash through the door as Haymitch joins us in the room. He’s next to Katniss in an instant, his hand resting on her shoulder as she attempts to calm my panicked rambling. I’m barely aware of what’s happening around me as Lily hooks me up to tubes and puts an oxygen mask over my face.

“It’s alright,” Katniss repeats, again and again, each time sounding a little less sure of herself.

I don’t remember at which point I stopped being aware of that hospital room.

 

 

“I don’t know what happened – all of a sudden he couldn’t move his arms either,” Katniss cries from somewhere in the room. I hear Haymitch mumble something in reply but I don’t quite catch it.

“We can’t lose him. I promised him,” Finnick adds.

My stomach churns as I understand that this is my call of death. They’ve run out of options. We’re at the tipping point now.

“Let me finish the video,” I grumble angrily, insistent that if I’m going to die it won’t be from some unknown complication – it’ll be because I wanted to remember how I was. I had to finish this.

“Hey kid,” Haymitch calls as he slides up towards my line of vision. I tilt my head so that I can see him and grin sadly as his pale face.

“Haymitch – just let me finish this. Please,” I ask, my eyes searching for Katniss who still hasn’t stepped into my line of sight.

“She’s here kid, right here,” He holds out his hand and Katniss rushes over, biting her thumb nail and wiping her tears with the other. I frown at her and will her to come closer, selfishly needing her near me.

“Come here,” I whisper, trying to hide the desperate way my voice asks for her. Thankfully, she doesn’t hesitate as she pulls the metal bar down from the side of the bed and crawls up beside me, tucking herself into my chest and wrapping her fingers around mine. I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair as her tears wet the blanket around my chest. “Don’t worry – I’m going to finish this.”

“We can’t let you do that, it’s not worth it,” Finnick steps into sight, frowning angrily at me.

“It might not be worth it to you, but it is to me,” I insist, looking between Finnick and Haymitch as they hover over me.

“Peeta, it’s not. What happens to her if it doesn’t work? What happens to the rest of us? You can’t do this,” He pushes back, running his hands through his hair and forcing it out in tufts that point in all directions. I don’t remember a time, even in my newly regained memories, that he looked this frazzled.

“He’s right, boy. This is going to kill you,” There’s no mincing of words with Haymitch and I appreciate it instantly.

“I know,” I reply solidly. “Let me finish,” I plead, looking between the two. “This isn’t a life I want if I can’t remember.”

The silence between us stretches, only interrupted by the quiet sounds of Katniss’ struggled breathing against me.

“It’ll work,” I whisper and longingly wish my hand to stroke her hair as it sprawls across me. “Turn it on,” I say pointedly at Haymitch whose brow furrows until he can’t look at me any longer. I hear Finnick stomp out of the room angrily at Haytmich’s point of submission to my request.

The TV flickers back to life and he falls into Katniss’ abandoned chair as the movements of Katniss hugging Finnick play out before me. The sigh I’ve been holding in my chest escapes and I let the tears begin to fall as I listen to Katniss breathe both on screen and next to me. Her fingers clutch my hospital gown as she changes places and sits in Finnick’s chair on screen.

She looks at the camera hesitantly and I watch as her hands fiddle in her lap, twitching as the light changes overhead. A body comes on screen to apply her makeup but she shouts them back, tiredly informing them that this isn’t a time for beauty. When the picture finally levels out, I see that she’s covered in bruises, her face is ripped on the cheek and her hair is displaced. She looks similar to what she did the day she found me in Haymitch’s quarters.

“My name is Katniss Everdeen, I’m alive, and I’m still the Mockingjay,” Her voice cracks on the last word and she looks off to the side of the screen, desperate to escape the glow of the lights.

“I came to District 13 when I was rescued from the third Quarter Quell. President Snow tried to kill us to subdue the District’s, but we escaped. He’s been trying ever since to destroy the rebels, the side of the people of Panem. But he hasn’t yet.

“In the field, I’ve been wounded. I’ve received three bullet wounds; including the one that I received during the explosion in the Capitol that convinced you I was dead. But still I live. And still I call for freedom and an end to this war. Give up, Snow, you cannot quell the fire that has started. Panem is burning and you _will_ burn with it.”

I watch as the girl on the TV before me falters after a moment, as though realizing that her words are finally recorded.

“We need more, Sweetheart,” I hear Haymitch call from behind the camera. Katniss seems to laugh haughtily to herself, looking at her hands in her lap while the camera continues to record the crown of her head.

“You took him,” She states, slowly looking up into the camera. “We’ve tried to rescue him, countless times – that’s how I got this,” She motions to the wound on her neck which looks to be healing slowly. “And we finally succeeded. But you’ve done something to him – you’ve taken away who he is. I’d say you’ve won, but that would imply we’ve given up. We’ll never give up – not until we’re dead.

“At least now he’s safe. He can live his life without me putting him at risk. Maybe I should thank you for that, President Snow. You might have taken my love, but with that, you’ve given him his life because he’ll no longer risk his for mine.” My chest tightens at her words, understanding why she stayed away for so long.

“Come after me now,” Her eyes are on fire, looking into the camera with a scary quality that burns through the lens. “Come and get me Snow, there’s no one left between us now. Try to put out the fire that you’ve started. Just remember, that I’m coming for you, and I’ll keep coming until I’m dead. And like a Mockingjay’s song, I don’t die easily.”

The video clicks off at the same time that the TV does and the lights return to the room. I can feel my heart thudding in my chest, knowing that Snow saw that video and is likely coming for her. The fear that entraps me pulls me under, flooding me with a host of memories that rip through my mind and tear at whatever walls have been forced up within.

Groaning, I feel my body recoil at the tension that laces my muscles and forces me to twitch as my mind sears in pain. I hear Katniss calling out to me as she grips me around the waist and places her lips to my neck. Her words ring in my head and all I want is to never let her go again; terrified that he’ll kill her and take her from me.

I know then that I love her. That I always have. That the memories flooding through me are real and that I can’t bear to let her go for one second longer.

“Katniss,” Her name hisses through my teeth as I bite at the pain piercing my brain and she looks up at me with her tired red eyes. I close my eyes tight, trying to hold it together as she brushes her lips with mine slowly.

“Stay with us, Peeta,” She breathes against my lips and I feel her curl up closer just before I go under finally.


	15. Chapter 15

I’ve never seen the stars so bright, dotting the sky and glistening in the distance like little drops of fire on the night sky. They flicker and fade, only to grow stronger as the sun sinks lower below the Earth, darkening the universe in its shadows.

I look upon it with awe, staring out into the night sky that spans out before me in the meadow of District 12. It’s quiet but for the sound of the wind whipping through the trees behind me and the subtle purr of Katniss as she sleeps against my chest, tucked in close under my arm.

The moment here is perfect, quiet and peaceful. I try not to ruin it with memories, or realities, or anything that could steal me from it. When the roar of the wind seems to consume me, my mind falters and stops, forcing me to close my eyes tightly as the sky begins to explode into a charring flame.

Opening my eyes again, we’re no longer in the meadow from District 12. We’re playing along the water from District 4, racing between the waves that crash the shore and threaten to drown us in their depths. But we’re not scared at all.

Up ahead, Katniss plows through the wave head on and dives below the surface, disappearing from sight. She’s gone for a moment too long and my heart stutters in my chest, fearing that she’s disappeared.

“Katniss?” The scream rips from my throat as another wave crashes into my chest, forcing me backwards and towards the shore. I fight it, pulling my body through the heavy water and outwards past the white crests. Another wave hits and I stand steady, tensing my body and forcing my way through it. On the other side, the water is calm and Katniss is bobbing up and down, a grin so wide and so bright on her face that I nearly forget my fears.

“Are you ready to learn how to swim?” She giggles and it’s so light and easy that I leap towards her and wrap her up in my arms. Our lips meet in a salty kiss as her hair tangles in my fingers and floats around us in the water.

“I thought you were gone,” I breathe into her neck, breaking free to suck in some air as she lets her torso float above where her legs are wrapped around my hips.

“I promised not to leave you, didn’t I?” She answers and pushes free, slipping through the water like an eel. “Swim to me, Peeta,” Her voice sings to me and I let myself float in the water towards her.

In that instant, I know how to swim towards her. Somehow it comes to me and my feet feel light as I kick them in the water. My arms move of their own will and I’m _swimming_ and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I catch up to her before I know it, pulling her back towards me as joy floods me.

I feel complete here, in the foreign water, with her right next to me, laughing and swimming and just _being_. At the moment when I blink, we’re back on the beach and she’s playing with a child, building up a sand castle that nearly touches the sky as I look on from the distance.

Looking at her as she blocks the sunlight, her body casts a shadow over me and I’m able to see how dark her skin has gotten. It’s as though we’ve been here for ages, living in the sunlight and growing by the water’s side. I feel happy. And calm. And complete.

“Can we build a moat?” The little girl says, rushing around from the hidden side of the sand castle and bursting into view with a flourish. She’s small and scrappy, her dark hair shining in the bright sunlight and I stare for a moment, not sure of my eyes.

“Why do you want to build a _moat_?” Katniss cries, stooping down to the girl and tickling her belly. The girl screams with laughter and falls to the sand, quickly regaining her feet and rushing around the castle once, twice, three times until she’s bouncing at Katniss’ heels.

“To stop the bad guys from getting in. They’ll drown before they can reach the Princess!” She calls out and draws a line in the sand. The thought that this little girl is reminiscing about tactical planning strikes me, as I can see it does Katniss, who looks at her with wide eyes.

“Who taught you that, little bird?” She asks, pausing her building to look at the girl straight on.

“Uncle Gale – he read me a book on medebal castles.” The girl shies away from Katniss, looking back towards me carefully.

I’m struck first by her eyes, bluer than mine and clearer than any ocean or lake I’ve ever seen. The striking resemblance stops with me there, and fully goes to Katniss after that – their skin tone, their hair – everything. Like a miniature version of her, standing before me.

“Am I in trouble?” The little girl asks me pointedly. I defer to Katniss, completely unsure as to what exactly is going on.

“No baby, you’re not in trouble. And they’re medieval castles, not medebal. Your uncle should know better than to read to you about those sorts of things,” She tuts and pats the girl on the head, turning back to the structure and combing the sand upwards.

I lay there for a moment in utter shock, absorbing the scene before me as Katniss and this child play together in what I remember to be the sands of District 4. I’m not sure how we got here, or what happened in between, but I know that without a doubt this girl is my child. My child with Katniss. And the thought makes my blood thicken and pound through my veins with a renewed strength.

Getting to my feet slowly, I creep towards Katniss while her back is towards me, winking at the little girl who watches me with a wide smile on her face. My arms wrap around my target and I swing her backwards and around in a circle, setting her down and pressing my lips against hers with haste. I try to fill the kiss with every ounce of love that I have for her, with every little bit that is within me to let her know that I am happy.

It’s the sound of the little girl screaming that breaks us apart, forcing Katniss and me backwards as we swing around and look at the pair of kids who have dumped buckets of water over the sand castle and are bent over laughing at their trick. They’re both older than the girl I know to be mine, at least by a few years.

“Finnegan Mellark and Marina Odair!” Katniss whips around and shouts, hands on her hips as she stops the boy and girl in their tracks. The boy, blonde hair nearly white, is glowing with tan skin and grey Seam eyes that startle me with their intensity as he looks up at his mother. By his side stands a waif of a girl with black hair and the widest smile I’ve ever seen. I recognize Annie and Finnick in her immediately.

I’m broken out of my trance by the little one now screaming at the top of her lungs, tears forcing a pattern of hiccups from her chest as she clutches to my legs. Reaching down, I lift her into my arms and she takes to my neck with her arms like a magnet.

“Why did you do that?” Katniss scolds, taking the buckets from the pair who shuffle their feet guiltily in the sand. They shrug in reply and look off. Katniss looks back at me with tired eyes, watching as I stroke the little girl soothingly on the back. Her face softens when I smile hesitantly, and I realize that she’s looking to me for disciplinary guidance.

“Finn, why don’t you take your sister to go collect sea shells for a while,” I say, setting the girl down reluctantly. It seems to be the perfect suggestion for her as she rubs her red rimmed eyes and grins wildly at me.

“Cara, you be careful. Don’t pick up any of the moving ones,” Katniss reminds and sends them off with the buckets, the trio racing along the beach and towards the reeves that sprout out further along. She turns back to me with a small smile on her lips, reaching her arms out towards me and pulling me close. “Thank you,” She whispers, tucking her head into the crook of my neck.

“For what?” My hands find her hips and I rock us slowly, back and forth on the soft sand.

“For giving me them. For bringing us here. For everything.”

I struggle with her words internally, trying not to let it show as I pull her small frame closer against me.

The truth is I don’t remember the ‘ _everything’_ that I gave her and the thought nearly pulls me apart. I don’t know these children; I’ve missed all of their memories. I’ve missed everything about their growing up. In fact, I’m not sure how we got here in the first place or who I’ve even become.

All of that panic though seems to fade away when her lips find mine, moving softly and surely.

“I love you,” She whispers into my ear and I close my eyes, finding myself in a dark haze of space that’s cold and damp.

Sparing a look around me, I don’t recognize anything in the blackness, my eyes trying to adjust from the warm sunlight that had covered me not moments before.

“Hello?” I call out hesitantly, listening to the echo of my voice reverberate off of the walls. My bare feet on the cold cement below me sends shivers up my spine and begins to numb my toes as I pace around the space, arms out and feeling for a wall.

The scream that rings out is the first thing that crawls up my spine and pinches the nerve endings at the base of my skull. It continues on for what seems like forever until it abruptly stops, followed by a gurgling noise and the sound of something snapping like electricity.

It’s deadly silent as I stand still, the smell of burning hair and electric current filtering through my nostrils and stinging my senses.

I long to be back on the beach, back in Katniss’ warm embrace as the sun beats down on us and the children laugh in the distance.

I want that back, whatever it was. I won’t question it for a minute.

The screaming returns and is echoed by another voice, not as strong, but just as vicious as it cuts through the air. Time seems immeasurable as it continues on, creeping under my skin and chilling my bones. I scan around me again, peering through the darkness that encloses me until I find a tiny light. I step towards it immediately, hastily thumping into metal bars that keep me from its discovery.

“Hello?” I call out again and one of the screams shutters to a stop. I wait for the smell and the sound of electricity again but it doesn’t come.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” The voice calls from somewhere in the dark and it screeches out like a wounded cat. I step away quickly from the bars and find my back pressed up against a wall, slowly sinking down to the floor.

After a while, the light flickers on above me with a frazzled hum as my eyes burn with the shock of it.

“Mellark,” A cold voice sneers. I see the face through the bars, a dark mask covering most of it as keys jingle in the lock. I don’t have time to react as guards drag me from the cell and down the hall to another room. The darkness doesn’t permeate this far and I’m strapped to a chair as my one leg hangs loosely over the edge. “Have you got any stories to tell us this time, before we give you the blank slate?”

My mind reels, recognizing that this conversation has happened before, somewhere in my memories it’s all been played out in real time. My body cringes, knowing how this ends and how it strips me of everything I’ve fought so hard for.

In that second, everything I’ve regained, all of the suffering I’ve put myself through, becomes completely and surely worth it. I remember why I made that choice in that dark room so long ago – I made it because it was worth it. Throw everything to the wind, say goodbye to what I remember, simply to protect _her_ from this man and these tortures and the sure death that would await her if I told them anything that I had locked in the confines of my mind.

I’d make the same choice again. I will make the same choice again.

I’ll die for her, all over again.

“Maybe,” I mutter back and clench my fists tightly. The man’s face hovers over mine in a haunting way as the light flickers above us, the sound of explosions ringing out through the cracked ceiling as little bits of dust betray our location as underground.

“Well? Spit it out,” He barks and watches me with black eyes.

“This doesn’t end well for you. I’ll give you the spoiler version. I don’t tell you a thing; you inject me with whatever drug you have tucked away in that pump over there. I forget everything just as this ceiling comes crumbling down around us. Only I get out, because those bombs overhead are intended to rescue – not you – they’re coming for us.

“I won’t tell you a thing, because they’ll try to bring me back, and I must die trying, or else why would I be back in this _hell_?” My voice rises to a higher pitch, almost dissolving into an insane rant as the man stares down at me with wide eyes.  I don’t see his palm coming up to slap me, but it does, and it stings, and I laugh viciously.

“You don’t know a _thing_ ,” He hisses.

The needle is in my abused vein, pumping a drug into my system that cools my mind and turns my laughter into a hollow cackle. The light flickers again and his dark face appears over me once more only this time his mask has been lowered into a white collared shirt and he’s wearing glasses now. I notice then that my hand is around his neck, squeezing and pressing into the skin as my nails bite.

I’m no longer looking at the man in black from the cold cells.

I’m staring at Aurelius whose eyes are popping as his fingers wrap around my wrist.

The screaming is back, only it’s not from a distance, its right next to me. When I swivel my head, I see Katniss shrieking in the corner, being held back by Haymitch who sits on the floor with her held between his legs. His arms are banded around her shoulders and he’s shouting for her to calm down.

I look back to the sputtering face above me as his eyes become bloodshot and spittle drips from his lips. What am I _doing_?

My hands drop to my sides and I struggle my way out of the bed, shifting my hips until my leg is over the side and dangling to the floor as my gown opens in back. The cold bite of the air conditioned room sends goosebumps over my body and I straighten up, looking around me with panicked eyes as the cement walls shudder with the sound of explosions overhead.

“We all need to leave!” Lily shouts into the room. She looks between her screaming daughter and the sputtering Aurelius and my dishevelled form as the alarms blare out around us. Her face pales at the sight of me and I feel my gut churn at the look that ghosts over her features.

She doesn’t trust me, not right now.

“ _Now!_ ” She shouts again and pushes Aurelius towards Prim who’s just arrived in the doorway. The man stumbles forward and uses the wall to brace himself as Prim slips closer to hold him up.

I watch silently as the lights flicker and the alarm in the hospital ward rings across the room and reverberates in my body. I don’t move, not daring to get up, as Lily clutches Haymitch’s chin between her fingers and yells at him to focus. Through weary eyes, I watch him nod slowly and break out of his daze, wrapping Katniss up tighter in his arms and fighting her from the room as she struggles to break free and launch herself at me.

As though she wants to kill me.

“Peeta,” Lily warns, hovering in the doorway and keeping her distance. “We need to leave. Come with us,” She shouts over the buzz. I shake my head slowly, promising her silently that I’ll stay away and keep them safe.

I know that Snow is coming for us both. I know that with my memories I’m a greater threat than before. I don’t even remember waking up, but surely I did long enough to try to strangle the man who’s only tried to help me. Why I did it, I’ll never understand. I’d thought for sure it was the man in black, come to finish me off. I must have done something to cause such madness in Katniss and such shock in Haymitch – something that I clearly don’t remember.

The room around me shudders and Lily disappears from sight. I’m left to myself, sitting on the edge of the medical bed that I’ve been relatively confined to for far too long. I look to my wheelchair, empty and mocking as it sits across the room.

I could walk to it now, if I had my prosthesis. I’ve regained my motor skills, sometime while I was ghosting through memories and dreams. It’s like I’ve been reborn, my body seemingly anew as I sit here.

Another explosion rings out above me and bits of cement fall into my hair.

It won’t be long now.

I kick my leg out before me, slowly saying goodbye to everything I’ve known. I whisper my love out, my unspoken memories, my thoughts and dreams.

“Fucking Mellark!” I hear my name cursed out through the squeal of sirens as my door bursts open. Finnick stands in its frame, cane in his belt loop as he glowers at me. “You ain’t getting out of this mess that easily!” He shouts and walks across the room, pulling the wheelchair to my bedside and forcing me down into it with rough arms.

I’m too out of it to notice that he’s shoved my fake leg onto my lap and is guiding us down through the hallways and into emergency passageways that spiral down deeper under the surface. The depth makes my ears pop like a tour of the mines in 12.

We slip into the safety doors just before they close tightly behind us, locks slipping into place and trapping us and the rest of the District 13 population into a wide cavernous room.

Finnick huffs behind me, leaning against my chair as I realize that he’s saved me. I’m just about to thank him when another body is crushing into mine, stealing me of air as it wraps itself into my lap. The smell of sweet magnolia drifts into my senses and I’m startled out of my state of disarray. My hands drift up her back and I hold her close, absorbing her sobs into my chest.

“Katniss,” I say unsurely, one hand tangling in her mess of hair. I’ve barely a moment to breathe her in before District 13 guards have me surrounded, the tips of their guns pointing in my direction as they step closer. I look up desperately to Finnick as he’s pushed back by a guard, stumbling on his unsteady legs.

The ground shakes overhead and the lights, even down this deep, flicker.

I think that possibly, very soon, we’re all going to die down here. And it won’t be from a bullet.


	16. Chapter 16

I’m not led to a cell or a barred room or a confinement area. They don’t have those at this depth, I imagine. I doubt they typically bring people like me down here. The ones who seemingly can’t even get it together enough to not injure those around them.

But still, not to belittle it or anything, but I only choked him partially. What’s with all the guns?

The whole time that the guard pushing my chair moves us forward, Katniss clutches herself to me with such strength that I think she’s latching onto me permanently. Despite loving her so, the desperation with which she holds me makes my stomach flip in nervousness.

This isn’t at all like the girl I now remember from the Arena. Something isn’t right. I’ve missed something here.

I’m pretty sure I probably shouldn’t be alive. Not after I thought I was dying. But now I can somewhat move and my brain doesn’t hurt so much. I’m confused.

My eyes scan the dark area of the room that they’ve finally steered me towards. Katniss never lets up, clinging tightly as the guards shout commands to each other about how to maintain watch. When their numbers dwindle to three, I move my hands from their place around Katniss and slide them to the wheels of my chair.

“Don’t move, Mellark,” A guard to my right shouts, butting me with the barrel of his gun.

“I don’t-“ I start, my mouth hanging open a little in surprise as he pushes the barrel harder. Katniss clings tighter.

“Shh, don’t say anything,” She whispers into my chest and my blood runs cold.

I stay quiet for a long while after that, staring into the darkness that stretches out, littered every so often with dim lights that are dug into the walls.

 

 

“Wake up.”

The barked order pulls me from what semblance of sleep I could attain stuck in this chair. She’s still in my lap. My legs are numb. Grabbing her hips I shift my torso to look to my left. Haymitch is standing with Aurelius and Coin, watching me.

“Private Tennil, deal with her,” Coin orders and a new guard steps forward and in one swift move grips Katniss under the arms and pulls her away from me, tearing her out of her sleep. Before I can think it through, my arms are reaching out and my body is lunging forward to grab her back into my embrace. Instead I’m hauled back myself and my shouts and her screams fill the air.

When my weakened body is slammed back into my chair, I look desperately to Haymitch who shakes his head almost imperceptibly. My fingers grip the handles, watching as Katniss is dragged away into the receding darkness with a hand clapped over her mouth.   

“How did you know?” I’m startled back to the trio before me by Coin, the stern woman staring at me with intense eyes.

How did I know _what_? I shake my head and look between the three of them and then to the guards surrounding me. I’m bordering on hyperventilating, not knowing what I’ve done while I was out. The last thing I remember before waking up with Aurelius’ neck in my hands was watching Katniss on video. Everything else had been a dream, or at the time what I thought to be death.

I’d lived.

It only just hit me now. I was alive. I still had some memories. I could move.

But at what sacrifice?

“Peeta,” Aurelius warns, his voice low and scratchy as his fingers ghost over his neck. Already the bruises are forming beneath the skin, purpling out in the pale light.

“I don’t understand,” I state carefully. Coin narrows her eyes and steps forward towards me. I don’t give her the pleasure of watching me flinch. Knowing what she’s done to Katniss, what she’d hoped would have happened, makes me loathe her more than anything else in this world.

“You knew it was coming – how?” I look to Haymitch at her words, begging silently for any direction he could offer me. 

“The bombing, kid. You talked about it when you were under,” Haymitch adds, ignoring the severe glare that Coin directs towards him.

“What did I say?” I need to know if it was what I’d dreamed.

“That the ceiling would come crumbling down and that you’d be the only one rescued. Command was notified immediately because your vitals were off the chart and we take all threats seriously, especially from someone who returned unharmed from the Capitol,” This from Coin who’s staring at me with such intensity that I bet my skin would bubble under the heat of it. I nearly scoff – returned unharmed? This is what she would call _unharmed_?

“You died, Peeta,” Aurelius croaks, surprising me. My eyes snap to Haymitch who stares at me knowingly, confirming what I’ve just been told.

I died. _Died_. No wonder it had been chaos. _Katniss_.

“Haymitch – is she-?” I need to know. She needs to be sure. Dammit, where is she? I silently thank the gods for Haymitch for being there for her when I couldn’t. I couldn’t even imagine the fear of losing her before my eyes.

“You saw her – she’ll be okay. Just scared her, is all-”

“Enough!” Coin bursts out, and steps forward again, leaning over me and gripping my shirt between her nails. My hands come up instinctively, fending off an attack from a fist such as my mother used to be fond of. She doesn’t expect my quick movements or the way my hands settle on her chest and push her back. Slowly, as though not real, she falls backwards and the guards move in.

I don’t even breathe.

Coin laughs from her spot on the floor.

“We’ll deal with that later. What did they do to you to make you privy to their attack details? I swear if you don’t tell me Mellark, there will be a bullet through your pretty face before the night is out.”

“I don’t know anything!” The pitch of my voice raises a little, the tension of having guns pointed at my chin becoming overwhelming.

“Alma, he was dead. I told you he didn’t know anything,” Haymitch insists. I see him out of the corner of my eye, rocking on the balls of his feet as though ready to pounce. I know that his instincts are kicking in and that he’s feeling the tension just as I am. You don’t get to be a Victor without some ability to react. Moving back to her feet, Coin brushes herself off and steps towards Haymitch, her nails clenching around his jaw tightly.

My mentor stares at her, his eyes on fire.

“When the threat level is lowered, he goes to the cages for 24 hour watch. No more of this game you two are playing. I’ve a war to fight,” Her voice is cold and threatening. I watch her release Haymitch and disappear into the darkness. The guards surrounding me step back again and I stare, my mouth dry, as Aurelius and Haymitch watch her retreat.

“Can somebody please tell me what the fuck is going on?” I groan. Honestly, my first instinct is to seek out Katniss, but I can’t have her here with me, surrounded by trigger-happy guards. It’s not safe.

“I’ll take this one until you can talk again,” Haymitch mutters and steps forward. The guards let him approach carefully. “Let’s get you on the mattress, kid,” He grunts and moves my chair closer to the outcropping of a cot in the stone wall. The dark area surrounding me is empty but for this tiny single bed that sticks out from the damp wall. I shift into it carefully, lowering myself using my hands more so than the weak muscles in my leg.

At least it works, I repeat in my head, over and over.

“After the video,” Haymitch starts, clearing his throat as he recalls the scene. “You went unconscious. It was maybe two hours before your heart rate picked up. Lily tried to lower it with a sedative but it dropped too quickly and your heart stopped functioning,” He paused after that. I could see his hands gripping his knees, his body shaking slightly. I couldn’t tell if it was because he needed a drink or he was still riled up from the memory.

“We were performing resuscitation techniques for about a minute,” Aurelius takes over, his voice rasping on the words.

“Then you just started talking. Like you bounced back without any warning,” Haymitch continued, this time staring at me until I had to look away.

The story made sense, at least in terms of how my body was feeling now. The muscles were sore and ached and my chest felt like I’d been walloped. Still, it didn’t sit right.

“Did I really predict this?” I question after a moment as the cavern shakes with another impact.

“I doubt it. I don’t see how it could have been anything but a coincidence. It was another doctor who notified command and they verified with their radar picking up hovercrafts. But it was all out of order. The alarms went off just as the call went up, I think,” He falters, looking to Aurelius who nods.

“You think? Why don’t you _know_?” I press.

“I was a little preoccupied,” He grunts in response. I don’t need any other explanation as the memory of Katniss fighting to get towards me swarms my mind. She hadn’t wanted to kill me – she’d been trying to save me.

“Why did I strangle you?” I turn to Aurelius then, finally looking him in the eye. I have to give the man credit; he doesn’t shy away from me like anyone in his position would. Or _should_ , for that matter.

“I don’t know – what do you remember?” His voice cracks in the middle and I nearly drown in my guilt. The memories of the dream are foggy now, slowly slipping away from my grasp with every passing minute just as dreams so often do.

“I was on a beach for a lot of it. Then I was in the Capitol – they were torturing me again,” I’m not stupid, I know that I’d thought the Capitol doctor and Aurelius were one and the same, I’d just thought that maybe I’d said something that had given more reasoning. Aurelius nods in confirmation of my Capitol assumption. “I’m sorry,” I murmur, looking to him with regret clearly displayed on my face.

“No,” He shakes his head, holding up his hands towards me as one finds his throat and gently rubs. “I’m sorry for everything.”

We sit in silence after that, each of us dealing with the onslaught of what’s just transpired. It’s a lot to process and I know I’m not the only one who has too many questions unanswered. I need to find Johanna. I need to find Katniss. I need to thank Finnick.

“You two should go – get some rest,” I mutter, looking at the floor and avoiding their gazes.

“Alright,” Haymitch agrees, getting to his feet and huffing out a breath. His body still shakes a little with the effort, and I silently hope that he has the liquor he needs to get through the next few hours. Aurelius follows suit, disappearing into the darkness between the guards quickly while Haymitch lingers for a moment. I look to him, watching him as he watches me.

“I need to talk to Johanna.”

It’s a statement, not a request. He nods in reply and begins to step away.

“And...” Pausing, he doesn’t look back, waiting for my request. “Tell Finnick thanks.”

I don’t ask for Katniss – I know she’ll find her way here if she’s not with her family. Long after Haymitch has gone, I sit on the edge of my bed and clench the sheet between my fingers. The stress of the day has nearly consumed me, eating away at my body and pulling my eyelids closed as I stare at the darkness. In another moment, I’m finding my body tucked against the rock wall and huddling for warmth as I pass out.

 

 

When I wake, I’m not on the bed surrounded by guards. The first thing I take in are the bars in front of me, separating me from the girl who lay on the other side, her hand stretched out towards me on the floor as she sleeps. I don’t know how I got here, but I know that this is where I’ll likely stay until the war is over. It’s what Coin wanted, apart from killing me, that is.

I stare at her for what seems like hours, watching the dreams play out behind her eyes as they flick back and forth and her legs kick ever so subtly. Reaching forward, I grip her hand tightly in mine, pulling it to my chin and tucking it up close. I long to be pressed against her in this moment, holding her close to chase away the dreams.

But I can’t. I’ve somehow become a threat. The idea baffles me.

“Hi,” Her voice surprises me, pulling me back down to earth and out of my own tumultuous mind.

“How long was I out before I was brought here?” I ask, having to know how time is passing. Everything seems to be flying at different speeds and I can’t get a handle. Things are changing too quickly – what was once a determination to regain my memories has warped into a conspiracy plot.

“Only a day.”

I nod as best as I can, my cheek rubbing against the cold cement floor. I’m thankful that she’s on a blanket, separated from the stark chill that would otherwise be filling her as well.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I want to apologize for everything. For what I’ve done, what she’s had to suffer, what she’s seen. If she’d just stayed away like she’d said in the video – she’d be better off, without a doubt.

“Stop. I chose this. I’m choosing to be here. Don’t belittle my choice with your guilt – we’ll figure this out. Just stay with me,” Though her voice is steady, her eyes betray her with the look of quiet desperation. Her fingers clench around mine as she shifts to get closer to the bars. I follow suit, matching my body to hers and breathing in her scent.

We lay together in silence, watching each other for what seems like forever. The new memories that I’ve gained, the ones from all those years watching her grow, flicker through my mind like fading embers. Though they’re hard to distinguish, I treasure them for what they are – something that I’d thought I lost forever. Something that made me love her so long ago.

“You’re not allowed to die on me again,” She whispers after a while, a troubled frown playing on her lips. I smile sheepishly in return.

“I’ll try.”

“No – you won’t. Because I think Haymitch would kill us both. You really scared him, you know?” This little tidbit of information surprises me. The inscrutable Haymitch was scared?

“I doubt it – he was probably afraid of dealing with you after,” I joke sadly, trying to break the mood.

“Don’t do that. It was bad. He found me during the attack – I had to get his flask of liquor into him before he’d settle down. Kept going on about how he couldn’t lose another one. You scared us both.”

I want to look away but I don’t. This is the last thing I want those around me to feel. All of this had started because I just wanted simple memories back – now I had a whole team of people wrapped up in me and my problems that would otherwise be free from worry. It seemed so foolish in retrospect.

“Do you know how long I’ll be in here?” I ask, forcing a change of subject as I watch the emptiness over her head.

“No. Will you be alright?” I almost laugh, the question seems so silly. I don’t see how I could be, stuck in a prison cell.

“As long as they keep the lights on,” I mutter in response and roll onto my back, my hand still entwined in hers. “Will you stay with me for a while?” I almost not dare to ask the question, terrified of actually being left here alone and reliving my days of Capitol torture. I wouldn’t put it past Coin to take the first opportunity she had to string me up by my heels.

“They’ll have to drag me out.” Her reply is forceful and certain, everything I need right now.

“Thank you.”

“It’s what you do when you love someone,” She whispers in reply, almost too low for me to hear it. But I do and the thought that she loves me unfurls the tension in my chest and lets me breathe a little deeper for the first time in a long time.


	17. Chapter 17

The first night that Katniss is ordered back to her unit to sleep is the worst night I’ve ever experienced in District 13. It’s harder now, to let her go, since we’ve come so far together. But it’s not just that – it’s the idea of being stranded down here, left to die in the dark, that riles me up and has me currently huddled in the corner.

They did have to drag her away eventually; after a sedative shot to boot. It had been pure torture to witness.

The thing that bothers me most is, up until now, nobody had cared what we did. They’d left us alone to figure things out. Now Coin was ordering her away under the guise that ‘soldiers aren’t allowed to fraternize’. It was such fucking bullshit. Such a blatant lie.

And now here I sit, the light fading in the distance and letting the dark close in on me. It’s almost enough to drive me insane.

 

 

“Peeta _please_.”

Her voice is desperate on the other side of the bars, her small hand reaching between the sticks of metal towards me. I don’t move from my spot, unable to fully function after the tenth day of spending the night in the dark.

I think you can die of sleep deprivation. I’m probably going to test the theory.

She tries for another hour to rouse me before she tires, leaning back on her haunches and just watching me as I watch her. The small shadow that she casts inwards shakes with her nearly silent tears. I feel mute.

 

 

They start bringing a lamp with them when they are allowed to visit. It draws me out of my shell, at least enough to eat the meager helping of food that I’m provided. Lily checks my vitals, Aurelius asks me to talk. Neither analysis’ are doing very well, I think. But at least I’m able to discuss how much the darkness smothers me.

In the end, they always take the lamp with them because they’re ordered back to remove it from where they’ve left it.

Today though it’s Haymitch standing in front of my cell, watching over me silently as I wonder where Katniss is.

I feel the thunk of something heavy and plastic roll into my knee and I look up to meet his steady gaze.

“Is she alright?” I ask, my voice a mere rasp. She barely gets down here for a few hours during dinner now.

“Coin has her training again,” He states very carefully. My fingers wrap around the object and I’m ready to shatter it in my fist. “I wouldn’t do that kid – try the button on the end.”

I do and the light that blinks into my eyes has my pupils flaring in surprise.

“I – thank you,” I whisper, finding it in me to sit up from my huddled spot on the floor. The minutes pass as I watch him shift from foot to foot, careful to keep an eye out for the guards down the alley. I suck in a breath and watch him as I say my next few words carefully: “Coin’s trying to finish what she started, isn’t she?”

The man stares at me long and hard and I can see the internal debate happening inside of him. He stops and starts his sentences more times than I can count before he flicks his head in a nod.

“I’ll send her down after her training.”

I shake my head.

“Send Coin instead.”

 

 

She’s down here in under an hour, flanked by two gunmen who look surprisingly bulky for citizens of 13. I don’t move from where I’m sitting with my back in a corner, carefully concealing the flashlight that Haymitch has smuggled me.

“What do you have to trade Mellark?” She bites, motioning for her guards to wander a fair distance away while she stands looming over my cell with her hands on her hips.

“Me – I’ve got me. Train me, send _me_. We both know there’s some handle they have on me – put me in the field,” I urge.

Though I’m not fully sure of what I’m promising, I don’t know if I really do have some way to know what’s coming from the Capitol. None of us truly know what went on there and so neither can argue one way or another. For all I know, I could be a tool that they’ll activate at any time.

She seems to consider my proposition for an agonizingly long time.

“What do you require in return?” And she’s taken the bait. She wants me out there. Maybe she even wants me for sure dead. I don’t care; she can promise what I want.

“Discharge her,” It’s a plea, but there’s no desperation for me to offer. It’s the trade, fair and simple. She’s released from military duty, I’ll take her place.

Simple.

The woman before me scoffs.

“And lose all of that training? She’s an Officer, not a Private. Besides, she’s more valuable as a symbol in the field,” Coin replies, laughing lighting after each point, as though the idea is too absurd to consider.

“She’s injured, haughty and hard to control – do you really want to keep putting your men at risk like that?” I counter, sure to strike at even something Coin herself can’t deny. She simply stares. “I’ll be your Mockingjay – scars and all,” I add quietly, daring her to turn me down.

“For how long?”

“Until the war is over,” Or until I’m dead – either way, Katniss will be safe. Katniss will live.

“Your training begins at 5am tomorrow. Now give me the flashlight.”

And just like that, I spend the next twelve hours in silent darkness, breathing through the haunting memories that flood me and try to hold me hostage.

 

 

“He did _what_?”

I hear her shout at Haymitch as I’m lead into the entry level combat class down the hall from where he has her cornered. She’s only caught sight of me now for the first time since I’ve been brought into training and she seems a little too baffled for my liking. I don’t know who’s been keeping her busy, but I say a silent thanks to them as we’re all paired up for hand-to-hand lessons.

We’re halfway through the lesson when the trainer immediately stops and looks over my shoulder towards the door.

“Excuse me, Officer Everdeen, is there something that I can help you with?” The clip old woman barks from the front of the class. I turn around slowly at her words, frowning when I see the red rims of her eyes as she scowls at me. “Private Mellark, turn around.” I do, if only to avoid the demonstration punishment I’ll have to endure _again_ if I don’t.

It doesn’t matter what promises I’ve made now. Coin has seemingly ordered the most strenuous training schedule she can muster. I’m shifted from course to course, always being returned at the end of the day to my cell. Now nobody is allowed to visit except a proxy doctor for Lily – I realized too late that I did not have the upper hand on these negotiations.

Almost a week has passed since I’ve seen her and all I want is to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go.

I can’t – I need to stay strong to make this work.

With my back solidly facing the door, I hear the squeak from Katniss who only now has seemingly realized where she is. The heavy metal echoes around the large room as the door slams in its frame, marking her departure.

 

 

I’ve never been to the briefing room before.  It’s white, like the hospital, but surprisingly large and round to accommodate the wide circular table in the center. Within that table is a strange device that seemingly displays life-like models of cities and villages and forests as though you’re standing in them.

I could watch it for hours. For days even.

But we’re not here to ogle the technology. Coin has called us here, my recently assigned team, to brief us on an extraction mission that we’ll be sent on at the end of the week. The idea makes me want to vomit – I’ve barely gained a basic knowledge in combat and tactics (not to mention my dismal showing in weaponry) and she’s already sending me out on a mission with complete strangers.

Well, apart from one Gale Hawthorne, who seems unable to look me in the eye.

He probably knows what I’ve done and can’t deal with me or the thought of me or anything completely related to me in any way.

“The hovercraft will deliver you to District 7 into the village of Siskiyou. For some time now we’ve had an ally embedded in the industry there – researching shipments and Capitol tactics in relation to nationwide defenses. She’s being extracted due to an impending compromise of her identity that would limit her value to the cause. Commander Boggs, can you handle the briefing from here?”

An older man, likely in his 40s, moves to his feet with an unassuming grace as Coin nods her approval, marching towards the door without further attention except a sadistic smile in my direction.

 

 

My cell isn’t empty when I’m deposited in it later that night, utterly exhausted from the extended weapons training that I was submitted to when I failed to hit center target in my latest lesson. Johanna lounges against the walls, surrounded by two beaming lanterns as she picks at her nails.

I’d say she looks good, but she doesn’t. Her hair is still thinned in places and her bones poke out of her cheeks, not to mention that she has circles under her eyes that I’m not quite sure aren’t part dirt.

“You _rang_?” She growls out, lifting herself from the cement and stepping towards me. I’ve a flash of her from her Games and I nearly tremble before I remember what sound she makes just after they’ve lit her up with an electrical current. We know each other’s pain. We can’t hurt each other any more than we already have.

“How’d you get down here?” I place my food carefully in the corner of the cell, setting it aside for later when I’ll have to pass the hours alone. Turning back, I see her watching me with bright eyes.

“You’d be surprised what a pair of tits and Finnick Odair can do,” She answers calmly and I have to do a double take. My mind’s eye fills with the memory of her naked form in the Training Centre when she’d been dressed as a tree. Coming back to reality, the woman standing before me has more visible bones than anything else. Her biting laugh brings me back to focus. “What do you want from me, Mellark?”

“I need to know if you know what they’ve done to us.”

My words seem to shock her into silence as her laughter dies out and her eyes turn hard. I watch as her fingers lift to her face and she naws on her thumb for a moment.

“You mean apart from the general torture?” Her voice is deadly quiet; as though she’s afraid any mention of it will bring her back to that point. The slow nod I offer in return seems to only increase her stress level as her gaze skitters around the cell. “I’m not sure. You got it a lot worse than I did, I think.”

I want to say that I got off easy, that I only lost my memory, but then I realize how hard it was to get it back and what I’ve nearly lost in the process. We’ve both lost too much.

“Did you ever...” I pause, gathering my words carefully. “Have you ever thought you knew something about the Capitol that you never should have known? And realized it’s true?” The question bursts forth and my hands slap to my mouth, trying to stuff the dangerous words back in. But it’s too late, she sees the fear and the anxiety that clouds and haunts me. She’s too fast for her own good.

“What happened to you?” It’s only a whisper, but the way she steps forward and grips my shoulders, almost as though she’s trying to keep me standing (and I can’t deny that she _is_ keeping me upright), I find unbelievably soothing.

I wish Katniss was here. I miss her so goddamn much.

“They think I knew about the bombing a few weeks ago. They think... They think I’m somehow connected. That’s why I’m here,” I mutter anxiously, twisting my fingers as I admit my dirty secret that only my team had known until now.

“That’s ridiculous, Peeta – come _on_ ,” She laughs again, throwing her head back and stepping away from me. It’s infectious and lightening and just what I need to move this weight off of my chest before I’m tossed out on a mission that I’m not sure I can handle.

The raucous laughter must break the guards from their distraction as they clink their metal batons on the cell bars down the hall.

“Time’s up, Mason,” One shouts and Johanna reacts before I can, pulling me close and whispering into my ear.

“If the Capitol was going to do anything, they’d make _you_ the weapon, not the beacon of one.”

And with that, she’s disappeared down the hallway, emptying the room of its momentary happiness and leaving me staggering with her words.

Of course I’m the weapon.

 

 

We’re leaving tomorrow. I’m heading out on a mission that I’m so ill-prepared for that it’s almost comical. I pass the hours alone in my cell as the night drags out ahead of me. I’m in the middle of recalling my briefing with Gale when I’m interrupted by the cell door opening and a set of whisper quiet feet appearing at its entry.

“Katniss,” It’s a gasp, escaping from my lungs like a breath as she stands over me. It’s been too many hours since I’ve seen her in more than just distant passing. It’s been nearly unbearable, at least, until I’d realized what Johanna had so easily pointed out.

All of my internal dialogue seems to disappear though when she lands in my lap, wrapping herself so securely around me that we’re nearly one person, holding tight in the cell before death comes for us.

“Why would you do something so stupid,” She repeats, over and over into my neck as her fingers clench into my skin.

“She was going to send you to die.”

It’s so simple a rationalization that it falls from my lips without a thought or debate. Coin was trying to get rid of her so I gave her me instead. A life for a life.

“You don’t know that.”

There’s no point in responding. We both know the ends of this argument now. I remember so well how her stubborn nature and self-reliance make her difficult to convince of nearly anything, especially when it comes to those she loves. The idea needs to be hers – it has to be her choice. Otherwise, it’s all a futile attempt.

I’m not sure how long we sit on the cold floor, clutching each other tightly, before the warm memory from the cave in our first Games flutters through my mind. The faded edges of it only hint at the state that I’d been in, hovering on the edge of death, as she’d breathed life back into me with her kiss. I long for that breath now.

So I take it.

Pressing my lips to hers I run my hands to the back of her head, to the side of her jaw, cupping her face and resting my forehead against hers. We take a moment to breathe before she returns the kiss, her lips and mine dancing as we sit entwined on the floor. When the breaths become pants and the hands find skin, I have to pull back, terrified of the direction that we’re hurtling before I throw myself into a war. Slowly, my lips brush lightly over her closed eyelids, caressing her skin with all of the kindness and love I can muster.

It’s still not enough to convey what I’m feeling, but it’ll have to do.

“If I don’t-“ I start, but she cuts me off and pushes herself away from me, her eyes burning with fury.

“Don’t you dare start with anything like _that_ ,” She hisses.

The moment has been ruined between us and if it weren’t so desperate for me to say it, I’d try to take it all back. But I can’t because it needs to be said and it needs to be said before I disappear for good.

“Just – don’t shut down if-“

“Stop it!” Her shout echoes off the walls and she grips my wrist tightly in her hands. Her mouth closes over mine as her body pushes me back so that I’m sprawled across the floor. I can’t do this – I need her to know. Even if I do come back – and that’s a big _if_ – I’ll still be a risk to the District. I’m the weapon.

 _I’m the weapon_. It keeps repeating in my head.

“Katniss, I love you. I’ll always love you. Even when I didn’t know anything – I knew that, of all things. But you need to promise me that it’ll be okay – that you’ll spite him with your survival. Promise me that if there’s nothing else you can promise,” The words start to jumble as they spill from my lips. My hands circle around her shoulders and pull her close until she’s flush against me and I can feel the heavy breaths that mean she’s fighting off tears.

That I’m probably fighting off tears as well.

“Gale promised me he’d bring you home – that’s why he’s on your squad. You’ll come home. You have to come home.” Though there’s a pang of jealousy at the admission, I say a silent prayer for Gale who is risking everything to make her happy.

If I don’t survive, he’ll need to make sure he does. He’ll put her back together – I remember that sureness I had as a result of my intentions in the Quell. I remember.

Surer than anything, I know now that every decision I’ve ever made in my life has been because of a memory or a rationalization based on an experience. Having my mind nearly restored has put me more at ease with my choices. It’s been worth every struggling moment.

“Everdeen, it’s time to go,” Finnick’s quiet voice breaks into our bubble, pulling us from the depths of each other. I feel her arms tighten around my neck as she resists any order she’s given. Soon the man’s arms are gripping her shoulders and trying to pry her loose but it’s no good – she’s got a death lock around me and I can’t say I’m too eager to help them take her. “Come on Katniss, don’t make them bring the sedatives,” He whispers in her ear and she only grips harder, wrapping her legs around my hips as we sit on the floor.

Finnick sighs and steps back as foreign guards take over and slip a needle into her arm, releasing the fluid into her bloodstream as she groans quietly in my lap. When finally the drug has taken over and she’s lifted into Finnick’s arms, I’m smothered by an emptiness that I’ve rarely known.

“Take care of her for me,” I whisper, my voice almost a whimper. Finnick looks at me as the cell door closes and frowns, watching me dissolve.

“You come home and take care of her. My promise still stands – we’ll run away from here. When you get back.”

And then he’s gone and I’m alone with a lantern and my own terrified thoughts of what’s coming for me tomorrow.  


	18. Chapter 18

The hovercraft that we’re being transported in is a lot different than the other ones that I somewhat remember riding in. This one is small, tightly organized, and filled with weaponry and a storage area for even more weapons. Our seats are small and cramped together, my strapped in shoulders often coming into contact with Gale’s as the engines stutter every once in a while.

I have to hand it to the guy; even through his tough exterior you can see that he’s not a fan of this crappy transport. I don’t hold it against him at all – I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be and he was the one who volunteered.

Early this morning, sometime before even the sun had risen, I assume, I was pulled from my cell by a collection of guards I’d never seen before. They’d latched my wrists and formed a box around me, leading me hastily to the hospital ward where I was loaded up with injections and patches. Despite the questions I’d asked, all I’d gotten in response was the phrase ‘standard procedure’. It wasn’t hard to recognize that this was complete bullshit.

After the ward, they’d shuffled me through to the prep room that I’d only seen once in passing. The room wasn’t that big, only slightly larger than the changing rooms at the highschool in 12 had been. The grey walls were lined with green metal screened lockers that each had assigned names above. One of the guards transporting me quickly found my locker, shoving me onto the bench before it and grabbing at my hands. His eyes were a stormy blue when they met mine as he sadly smiled while unclipping my shackles.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, rubbing my wrists as my eyes scanned the barren room. I hadn’t been briefed on this part and the other guards were quickly dispersing from the room. The guard who kneeled before me tapped my shoulder and then motioned towards the locker, a grim smile on his lips.

“Your gear’s in there, get dressed soldier,” The man barked, swiftly moving to his feet and leaving me to myself in the room.

I’d sat for another ten minutes, blood pulsing through my veins as the panic filled my gut. I hadn’t moved until Gale arrived, freshly showered with slick wet hair, as he looked down upon me sadly.

“You ready for this?” He asked quietly, moving to his locker with stealth that made me jealous.

“Not in the least,” I croaked, turning to watch from my place on the bench as he pulled out his uniform and a heavy vest loaded with pockets. I tried not to gulp the fear coating the inside of my mouth.

“Well, just hold it together and you’ll get home. Get dressed Mellark, the team will be here soon.”

I turned back around to my locker and pulled it open, shedding my manky sweats and trading them in for a properly fitting green uniform. Even the boots fit to both my feet properly, the second having already been adjusted for the altered size of my prosthetic foot. I was just beginning to slip on the vest when the rest of the team seemed to barrel into the room, raucously banging open their lockers and stripping down before my eyes.

“Come on Mellark, we’ll get you your kit,” Gale barked, grabbing me by my forearm and forcing me from the locker room as the rest of the men broke into roaring conversation. I couldn’t help but think as I was led down the hall that I was most definitely in over my head. These men were ready to fight – they weren’t panicking or losing their shit because they were going into battle. They were _jovial_ about it.  I wondered somewhere in the back of my mind, if this is how Katniss liked to prepare.

Gale led me up a hallway that seemed to rise as we did, turning slightly and heading up what was almost like a ramp. He didn’t bother speaking, likely picking up on my reluctance to say anything at all right now. Finally, after what was almost too much walking, he pushed into a side door and pulled me in along after him. The room was bare, no equipment of any kind. Turning to Gale, my mouth agape, I stared at him wondering just what his plan for me was.

“Peeta – listen to me, and listen good. You’re in over your head, but you’ve been through worse. You need to keep it together out there and it’ll be fine. This is a routine mission – hey!” He slapped my shoulder then, forcing my eyes to refocus as the fear bubbled in my gut. Meeting his gaze, I was drawn into the intensity within him, the steel grey of his iris’ unforgiving. “I’ll get you home – just follow orders, alright?”

I nodded, unsure of whether I’d be able to actually keep it together enough. Ever since the Games and my subsequent memory loss, my confidence has been pathetic at best. The only time I’ve ever felt remotely in control was when I was allowed to choose to die and even then I had a whole team of people at my side to deal with me. Now I’d be out in a warzone, actively fighting to protect the team and rescue someone.

What the _fuck_ had I gotten myself into?

“Time to go, ladies,” One of the soldiers who I hadn’t met yet quipped. I nearly jumped out of my boots at the surprise. Gale smiled sadly and clapped my back, acting so much like the father he probably was to his siblings.

We loaded onto the hovercraft soon after checking our weapons and supplies. For the first hour of the flight, Boggs reviewed our strategy and roles. I wasn’t the only one to notice that I was the extraction contact, riling up some of the rest of the team who bemoaned my inexperience.

“Cram it, team. Mellark has experience with this individual and we will utilize that experience. The rest of you get to play watchdog so settled down,” Boggs ordered, the team falling silent as he continued the rest of his briefing. Afterwards, as my shoulder collides with Gale once again, I turn to him hesitantly and watch his face scrunch up with his eyes tightly closed. He shouldn’t be here – he should be back with Katniss.

“Thank you, Gale,” I say, clear enough to cut through the roar of the engines and the chatter of the others on the team. Gale nods, turning to meet my gaze steadily.

“You didn’t have to be here either,” He grumbles in return, his eyes clenching shut again as the hovercraft bounces in the air forcing him to swear viciously.

And with that, we settle in for the rest of the violent flight in silence, understanding that we’re both here for Katniss, to save her, to keep her sane, to make sure there’s something to come back to. He’s here to keep me safe, and I’m here to make sure she never has to come out here into the crosshairs of Coin’s plan ever again.

It’s another few hours of unsettled stomachs and shaky flying before we’re grabbing onto force-field ladders and being lowered into the middle of a deep forest, the likes of which can’t even be compared to the one on the skirts of District 12. Once I’m on the ground, I look around only to realize that I’m one of the few still standing who is not currently expelling my meager breakfast from my stomach. All around me the strong team that had riled me the whole flight is vomiting into the grass.

“They may be fighters, but they’re still new to flight travel,” Boggs’ voice booms from behind me, startling me from my observation and forcing me to turn around to face him. I try not to let him notice the way my hands grip to my rifle until my knuckles are white.

“Sir?” I croak, half expecting some joke at my expense. It never comes.

“You know, Mellark, you’re invaluable to this team this time out. It’s a solid mission, a good one to learn on. Stay alert, keep it together, and we’ll all get home.” I nod, accepting his statement and certainty with reserve. It’s the second time I’ve been told to get it together. “Alright boys, let’s get a move on. We’ve got 10km ahead of us before nightfall,” Boggs shouts out, kicking the closest soldier playfully as he retches still on the ground.

Halfway through the trek through the forest I’m already starting to feel the ache in my bones and the pain shooting up through my false leg. The terrain is rough, rolling up and down across hills that go for miles ahead. I am thankful though for the lack of bush cover, a small relief in an otherwise difficult hike. I remember the difficulties I’d had with the underbrush in the Arena and how it had taken twice as long to get anywhere with my leg catching on all of the vines below. This forest was simply full of trees and endless lengths, stretching out before us.

Three quarters of the way through, I was notably falling behind. My pace slowed significantly as the sharp stabbing pain in my thigh seemed to reverberate into my hip like a sword striking stone. 

“I’m surprised you kept up this long,” Boggs laughs, surprising me as he drops back next to me from the front of the pack, keeping pace with me easily. I nod in reply, gritting my teeth to keep from groaning with the pain. I’ll make this trek, I will. “What with your legs being useless not too long ago and all your medical stuff going on. Coin thought you’d have dropped dead by now,” He continues, laughing lightly.

“Fail to see the humour in it, sir,” I reply, pushing on ahead to get away from this man. He catches up easily and grabs at my arm, turning me towards him as his eyes burn into mine.

“I know her plans, Mellark, and I don’t agree with them. I’ve read your briefing papers and you’re one hard son of a bitch, but you don’t need to kill yourself out here,” Without warning, he releases my arm and shouts to the rest of the team that we’re stopping for lunch. I nearly collapse from my feet at the idea, but pause, instead offering to keep watch.

The men don’t even bother to respond, quickly dispersing into their already assigned duties as the rest of us settle in and pull out our ration packs from our bags.

 

 

I sleep better than I think I ever have before. The forest ground is soft with a thick coating of pine needles under the small tents that we’ve popped for the night. I’m the first to take watch, settling in with a soldier by the name of Mitchell who spends the two hours telling jokes with me to keep the mood light. When it’s time to rotate out, I crawl into a vacant tent and completely disappear into a dreamless sleep.

It’s still dark out when we’re roused from our sleep, quickly fed and then off again in search of the small village called Siskiyou where we’ll pick up what the team affectionately calls our ‘package’. I’ve noticed that since departing the hovercraft and through until we broke for lunch the mood of the team towards me has effectively changed. They no longer purposely keep me out of their conversations, instead choosing to pull me in for a dirty joke or a quick story as our hike continues forward.

I’m not sure whether the change has come as a result of my own breaking of expectations or if it has spread out after my varied interactions with them. In a few of the scenarios at least, the charming and personable Peeta that I remember from before the Games has come out, spinning stories and breaking down even the hardest man from his staunch scowl.

When we finally come upon the border of Siskiyou, marked by the towering electrified fence similar to the one in District 12, the team visibly changes from the light-hearted men to a determined group set on following through on their plans. Orders are given without haste and everyone spreads out, searching for the chink in the fence that we’ve been told exists along the southern border.

I’m paired with Gale and we walk, guns held aloft, along the fence line searching for the quiet zone. We don’t talk, too intent on listening for the steady hum, until we’re broken from our search by a call through our headsets that alerts us the entrance is in the opposite direction. Without question, we take off towards the team and squeeze through the barrier. Two men are left behind to keep watch as the rest of us creep through the trees and into the line of houses that border the forest.

“Hawthorne, Mellark, take the west wall and travel north. Package should be in grey brick building marked with ‘Administration’. Scol and Hatfield, take the east side and approach from five street. Keep an eye out for Peacekeepers and individual loggers,” Boggs orders through the headsets. My stomach turns as we set forth. I can’t help the way my hand shakes momentarily on my rifle, my body fighting the urge to ever injure someone on purpose.

I’m the weapon.

I’m the _weapon_.

“Mellark, _settle_ ,” Gale hisses from beside me, moving us forth between the buildings that throw shade over us like a cover. I try to calm down at his words but my body betrays me, slipping on a loose tree root and nearly falling on my face. Gale grabs my shoulder and hauls me up, his face stark with intensity as he stares me down. “ _Settle_ ,” He repeats again, gripping me tightly.

“I’m the _weapon_ ,” I whisper, stepping back from the man whose face slowly turns into one of startled surprise. He doesn’t approach me, simply watches me retreat as I back towards the humming fence. “I’m the weapon,” I repeat again, my eyes wide as my body moves of its own accord. The gun slips from my hands as my heart beats frantically in my chest, forcing my pulse to throb through my fingers. I hear over the radio Gale call for assistance before he’s approaching me with open hands, his weapon at his side.

“Peeta – stay with us here, you’re not the weapon, I promise,” He whispers quietly, his head swivelling every so often to check for people around us. The village is strangely desolate, the only sounds being emitted from the factory in the distance.  

Taking another step back, I hear the humming get louder as Gale warns me to stop. His face is tight, his orders clear, as his hands reach for me just before I’m forced to the ground by a body slamming into my side. All I see is black before I’m drawn into a memory of the Capitol torture.

This time he’s playing with a set of knives by my side, flicking them with his fingers and snarling at me viciously. Slowly, carefully, he runs the blade over my ribs and down to my hip bone as I clench my mouth shut, suffocating screams behind my lips.

“The best part Mellark, is that you won’t remember what we do to you. You’ll lead them right to us without a thought as to why. And then we’ll win and you’ll _die_ ,” He yells the last part and shoves the blade into my side, turning it in a circle as it cuts me from the inside. The scream I’ve been trying to hold rips from my lungs as the pain sears through me.

I don’t know how long I struggle with his fingers playing across my ribs, poking in the flesh and then stitching it back up. He laughs giddily all the while, muttering about trackers and scans though I can barely understand him through the pain.

 

 

When I wake up again, we’re in a log house that I don’t recognize. There’s a small fire burning in the hearth and I’m on my side, curled up under a blanket that’s been draped over me. Despite all this, my body still shakes with the cold that has settled in my bones.

“You’re awake!” The familiar voice terrifies me, forcing my body up and away and into the corner without even a conscious thought to react. I stare at the girl, taking in her short blonde hair and slender form as she stands before me, clenching her coffee cup as Gale hovers in the kitchen in the background.

“Delly?” I gasp, struggling to come to terms with the panicked thoughts in my head.

How did she get here? Where are we?

My gaze flickers to Gale over her shoulder and I find his face still unreadable.

“She’s the package, Peeta,” He rumbles, taking a sip from his mug as he carefully watches me. I have a strange feeling that he knows something more but he’s not telling.

“What happened?” I ask, trying to recall anything before the dream. Delly looks to Gale who frowns in response before heading to the couch and taking a seat.

“You almost walked into the fence. Mitchell took you down and then we finished the extraction. You’re a heavy motherfucker to carry,” Gale finishes, taking another sip of his drink as I settle onto my butt in the corner. Delly silently offers a drink but I turn it down, instead choosing to rest my head in my hands.

“Where are we now?” I groan, rubbing my temples as I try to dispel the pounding ache inside them.

“The rendezvous point. It went a lot smoother than expected. We’ve got an hour before pick up.”

I nod, watching my feet. I hear boots overhead and realize that we’re not the only ones in the cabin, that the rest of the team is overhead.  Looking up, I meet Gale’s burning gaze head on and stare, trying to ask the question that I can’t voice. He nods.

They know. They understand.

I’m the weapon.

“We think it’s a tracker. We’re going to get it out when we get home,” Delly interjects, obviously knowing more than she lets on. My eyes swivel to hers, trying to put all of the pieces from before and after the Games together in my mind. She smiles sadly at me and I know that she has answers to questions I’m not ready to ask. “You’ve made a remarkable recovery, Peeta,” She whispers after a while, moving to join me on the floor.

I remember this. The way she’s able to comfort without interfering. I miss this. I miss Katniss.

“Hovercraft is in range,” Boggs shouts out throughout the cabin, poking his head down the stairs towards us. Gale is quick to react, lifting his weapon into his hands and moving to pull us both to our feet. Delly doesn’t hesitate, quickly snapping on a belt with a weapon laced into it and pulling on a jacket. I stare at her, mouth agape, as I realize that she’s no longer just the shoemaker’s daughter anymore.

She’s become a soldier. We’ve all become soldiers. Kids with weapons.

“Welcome back,” Mitchell jokes as we head out into the clearing. The team is already loading up onto the immobilizing ladder, slowly disappearing into the hovering roar above us.

The trip in return is no better than the trip out, the craft shaking in the air as we ghost through the skies. We’re about an hour out from 13 when the craft’s lights begin to frizzle, flickering on and off as an alarm begins to blare in the cockpit.

Boggs is out of his seat in no time, heading towards the pilot without a look back towards us. Delly grips my hand from her seat on my left, just as Gale looks towards me, his face tight and determined.

“We’ll get you home,” He grunts, unbuckling himself as he lurches forward to where Boggs has disappeared. The rest of the team watches with strained faces until Boggs returns and orders everyone into emergency landing protocol.

I’m pulled out of my seat without warning by Gale who’s strapping me into a heavy backpack and pulling Delly forward to be equipped with one as well.

“When we land, run east. Find water, find shelter, stay together, stay _alive_ ,” Gale shouts over the sound of the engines roaring below us. The hovercraft shudders to the side just before a blast rings through the floor, vibrating the metal and tearing at the side of the hovercraft.

In the distance, I hear someone shout that we’re hit. I hear the scream of metal ripping as the craft shakes to the side. I see Gale buckling up his own pack and then gripping the above netting, his eyes clenched closed tightly and his lips moving silently.

In another instance, an explosion rips through the front of the craft and the side door is flung open. Our bodies are forced through the opening, pulled into the air as we drop quickly.

In my mind’s eye, I see Katniss hovering over me, bare as the day she was born with a slight flush covering her skin. Her lips are curled up in a content smile as her hair hangs in my face and tickles my chin. I think it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her. I think it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. I try not to let the image disappear, clinging to it as I fall through the air. I miss Katniss. 


	19. Chapter 19

I’m seeing stars.

Well, maybe not really. It’s pitch black all around me, the sun nowhere to be found. It’s also quite hard to breathe, almost as if I’m suffocating. But I see lights. And they flicker in the darkness. A green one here, a red one there. Each light shifting around me.

I’m on my back looking up.

My fingers find the ground, gripping into damp pine needs and a light layer of grass that feels so cool and soothing against my strained hands. That’s good, because otherwise I’d feel like I’m floating.

Moving, I reach my hands towards my jaw, running along my body to search for any indication that I’m hurt worse than I feel. Checking for shock. Checking for limbs.

All present and accounted for.

My palms find my cheeks next, cupping the scruffy skin as I feel a brush of fabric across my face.

I’m not suffocating. I’m covered by a sheet.

Maybe they’re calling my death.

The lights are still flickering, even through the fabric.

Gently, carefully, I move my aching arms and try to disengage myself from the confines above me. Just when it begins to seem impossible, I find the edge, slipping it from my face I pull in a breath that I didn’t expect to be needing. Nearly choking, the cool breeze and the smell of pine begin to overwhelm me, forcing my heart rate up and my mind to try to take a full stock of what’s around me.

They’re fireflies. Dancing in the air, flickering their lights, the insects scatter as I gasp for oxygen to fill my lungs.

That’s the exact moment when I feel it all come crashing down into me. My brain aches, my limbs are restless, and my ears are screaming at a pitch I’ve never heard before. Slowly, I lift myself into a seated position, fondling the fabric that has wrapped itself around me somehow. The strings that keep it all linked together end at my backpack which has exploded into a mess of ropes and latches.

The vibration below me catches me off guard, rumbling low like a freight train running in my head. Clutching my eyes shut, I turn my body to my right and lean on my tender wrist, opening my eyes and taking in the sight behind me.

Wreckage is _everywhere_. The hull of the ship is embedded into the ground, flames licking up the side and reaching into the trees as the smoke billows forth to the open sky above. There’s shrapnel all around me, sticking out of the ground and severing trees and plants for at least fifty feet. Fire blazes higher, erupting upwards and cascading light around me in a hot flash.

Bodies.

Some are moving; some are simply motionless and covered by their backpack tarps. My head spins with the understanding.

We’ve crashed.

I’m alive, but barely.

The hovercraft explodes and the rumble returns just as I raise my arm to cover my eyes. When it’s over and the heat dissipates, I force myself upwards and struggle to the nearest prone form, pulling at the thick waxy fabric that covered me moments ago. The body I discover underneath is just that; a body. Mitchell is dead, his eyes dark and his neck snapped in an angle that isn’t normal.

I return the fabric over his face and stumble to the moving chunk of fabric. Whoever is inside is screaming, calling out above the sound of the engines. My hands rip until the golden mess of hair pops out of the top and a crying Delly appears underneath. She screams again at the sight of me, reaching for the black sheet and ripping it from her body, forcing herself out of the tangled mess and to the edge of it.

Like a black sea, she watches it as her breathing returns to normal and her eyes glance at the sight around us.

“We crashed!” She screeches, surprising us both. I don’t reply, sure that I won’t have any words to answer with. I need to move. I’m back on my feet in no time, just as Delly grips my hands in her steel tight grasp. “You’re bleeding!”

I’m hovering over the next figure before I can even think about it.

“Gale,” I mumble weakly, my voice wavering slightly. I see him blink, watching the fire from where he lays on his side, clutching at his rifle. “ _Gale_ ,” I try again. Nothing. My hand finds his cheek quickly, landing squarely on his jaw and slapping him back to the present. His only reaction is to reach up and grab my hand, his eyes threatening me with a glare that is terrifying. I’m stumbling back before I know what’s happened.

Somewhere in the distance, Delly is shouting for help.

“Get _up_ ,” I try again, standing over Gale as he huddles on the ground.

The next few minutes drag on as though a century has passed. Thankfully Mitchell and Scol are the only bodies I come across – if that can even be considered something to be thankful about. Everyone else is either missing or gone.

I’m sitting on a stone, watching the fireflies dance outside of the ring of burning fire, when a body lumbers over to me. I think I’m imagining it.

“We’re not far from home base now – got another hike in you?” Boggs’ voice, his reality, startles me out of my daze. My eyes scan to his and rest upon the weary sight, taking in the blood marking his forehead and cheek.

“Where is the team?” I croak.

“Procedure is clear. They’ll find their way back. We need to get a move on.”

We stay the night, just in case.

 

 

 

It’s morning, though no one has really rested.

Around dawn, Delly had finally convinced Gale to move into a sitting position, despite his protests. He was still in shock and still gripping that rifle as though he would die without it. I didn’t try to rouse him again, sure that he would finally just finish me off at the end.

Now we are standing at the edge of the clearing, Boggs, Delly, Gale, a few other team members and I, watching the hovercraft wreckage smoke from its dent in the ground. Three more bodies had been found during the night – two had been the pilots I’d never even met.

I didn’t want to think about it.

“Alright – we’ll head north east from here,” Boggs instructs, watching over us from the front. You can see it in his eyes, the way he’s treating us like little children that he has to protect. I can’t help but think that the man is far too good to be teamed up with Coin.

The hike is long. There is absolutely no doubt about this. We don’t know how long – Boggs can’t say for sure – but we’ve decided to ration any semblance of food that we had, along with anything we can scrounge on the way. For the first time since 74, I feel useful as I slap nightlock berries out of Delly’s hand.

Nobody questions it, not even Delly. 

“Sir!” She shouts a few hours into the hike. We’re all certain that she’s going to quit, that this is too much for her (hell, it’s too much for me) but that’s not what this is. I watch with tired eyes as she wraps her arm tightly around Gale and helps him fall to the ground with as much grace as she can given their sizes differences. I’m somehow the first one at their sides, my canteen of water out to offer as soon as I’m down.

Hatfield, our medic, takes stock of the injuries littering Gale’s huge form. No broken bones or protruding wounds, just some straight up shock and awe. I don’t move away when the team disperses to locate food and rations for a break. Delly doesn’t leave either, instead sitting along Gale’s other side and clutching his hand tightly to her chest.

“Your family needs you,” Delly speaks quietly, leaning over him as her fallen hair brushes their hands. I sit back on my haunches and watch as she quietly brings him back, reminding him of his brothers and sister and mother.

“I promised her I’d bring you back,” I interject, halfway through Delly’s recall of the trek from District 12 to 13. Gale’s hot gaze snaps to me then, as though remembering that I’m here for the first time. “It’s the agreement we made,” I add quietly. I can see Delly’s wide eyes watching me as I look down at this man I’d almost call a friend. I had to get him home.

“We need to keep moving,” Boggs rumbles from ahead after coming back from scouring the trees for food. In an instant, the man below me shifts and gracefully stands, his back becoming ramrod straight in reaction to his charge officer. Delly and I can only spare a sideways glance before we’re hiking forward again, moving through the trees for an unknown destination.

 

 

 

We walk for days. It might even be weeks. We barely sleep, or eat, and yet still we hike. It takes a while, but Gale comes back to us, eventually scouting out ahead and hunting with the few bullets that remain in his clip.

None of us really talk much. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re tired or if we really have nothing to say. All we really want is to get back to District 13. To get back to what semblance of home we now have.

At least, the home I remember.

I’m reminiscing through my newly repaired memories of town when through the line of trees I see a break. And a pole. And barbed wire.  

Instantly I’m drawn to the edge, side stepping closer with every inch. I don’t know what propels me apart from a gnawing feeling that I’ve been here before.

“Come on Mellark, you’re drifting!” Hatfield scolds, pulling at my arm and dragging me back towards the group. I don’t bother to fight it knowing that it’s likely just a mirage or my mind playing tricks on me due to lack of food and water.

The sun begins to set not long after, slowly creeping down into the trees and leaving us in the dark embrace of the forest. I take first watch as everyone collapses into sleep.

It’s not long before I’m wandering through the trees towards the edge that I remember. My eyes adjust to the darkness in a way that I don’t remember ever developing, but I try to shirk it off. The last thing I need is another wonky thing to be acting up in my body right now.

I don’t walk for long before I’m rewarded with the breaking of the bushes as the trees give way to an open field surrounded by a tall fence that’s broken down along the ways. It hits me then, hard, as I look to the houses behind the fence and see a mess of rubble and destruction.

This is District 12.

This is home.

My chest constricts with the realization and I have to force my head between my knees before I can look out of over the singed roofs and mangled fences. Looking back up, the smell hits me like a brick wall, robbing my stomach of any of its contents as the waft of rotting and burning flesh fill my lungs. I nearly tip over as I find a tree and wretch towards my boots, coating the area in a thin film of bile.

When it’s done, when I have nothing left inside me, I take off into the District with a running pace that I didn’t realize I had, all awareness that I should be protecting my team disappearing from my mind in the blink of an eye.

I head first down the rocky road to the Town Square, determined to find my roots and find the family that I remember so clearly. I’m not expecting the decaying bodies or the strewn bits of life spreading across the roads and leading into houses. When I finally come upon the Square, I’m startled by the destruction.

All around me buildings have been levelled. What remains is so charred, so burnt out and flattened, that any survival from this region during the bombings would be impossible. Without thought, my eyes center on where my family bakery should have been.

Now there’s nothing but a giant hole, gaping in the ground.

It’s not just levelled – its ground zero.

For some reason, I don’t start to lose it like I’d expect. It takes me by surprise, no doubt about it, but instead of acute sadness all I feel is a deep pain and a calmness that washes over me like I’m drowning.

I find myself on my knees a while after as the sun begins to break over the sky. Realizing I’ve been out here all night after abandoning my watch, I still can’t fathom the idea of leaving this place. I don’t move, instead staying rooted to the ground with my hands disappeared under the black dirt below me.

“They probably didn’t even know what happened,” A cool voice ghosts over my shoulder. I don’t move, too tired and strung out to contemplate finding the source. “It was so fast and there wasn’t a warning. I don’t think anyone from the Square made it out.”

“It’s alright,” I reply weakly, my voice nearly betraying me as I scan the crater that was once my home. The hand that rests on my shoulder, squeezing tightly, finally pulls me back together and I look up to see Gale standing above me and looking better in the shining sunlight than I’ve seen him since the flight went down.

“It’s not alright – but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” He responds, reaching out a hand to help me up.

I’m halfway to my feet when we both hear the sounds of engines in the distance. There’s no doubt in my mind that hovercrafts are nearby, heading in our direction without any sense of hesitation. My body seizes, pushing at Gale’s shoulders and urging him to move.

“Go!” I scream, desperate to get him out of sight.

“How did they find us?” He shouts in return, moving from a jog into a run. I know instantly that _I_ am how they found us. I led them right to _us_ with whatever they’ve done to me in the Capitol.

I can’t keep pace with Gale as the shadow of the hovercraft begins to creep up on us. We’re almost at the edge of the forest when the sun is fully blocked from overhead and the shadow of the great machine encompasses us. Off in the distance I hear more shouting as Gale disappears into the tree line, warning our team of the impending attack.

It’s then that I stop. I stop running, I stop walking, I stop _moving_. Instead I turn around, lifting my arms into the sky and looking up at the sky beast that hovers overhead.

“Come at me,” I scream, rage burning up inside me so quickly that I feel like I could destroy the world. I’m a ticking time bomb, determined to take down the Capitol for taking everything from me.

If they really want me, they can have me, so long as Katniss is safe.

I stand in the open road surrounded by burned down homes as black bodies drop from the hovercraft, approaching with guns raised and dark masks covering their faces. I almost laugh at the sight – all this for a half-starved, half-broken kid who didn’t _really_ want to die in the Arena?

“Just fucking do it already,” I shout as the men approach. Someone grabs my arms from behind, nearly surprising me with their rough hands as they latch them together with a zip tie. I don’t bother to fight back as I’m lead towards the ladder, willingly giving myself over to the enemy.

Halfway into the air, the ground explodes in a fire fight as Gale and the team breach the forest wall, surprising the remaining guards with their weapons. Nearly half of the men drop to the ground, dead, before the rest are in the air, rising up towards the ship.

“Peeta!” I hear Delly scream from below. If I could look down, I’d beg her not to worry. Over the snarl of the engines the roar of frustration that spikes through the haze sends chills down my spine. Very soon I’m pulled into the hull and out of the sky as I’m knocked on the head with a rifle butt, stealing me of my consciousness.

Just before I black out, the memory of Katniss and her smile plays before my eyes. At least she has Gale – he’ll come home to her.

Oh _dammit_ I miss her. I didn’t realize having memories would hurt this much.


	20. Chapter 20

I’d always thought that no matter how dark it gets, your eyes will always adjust to at least give you _something_ to work with in the dark.

I was wrong.

I’ve had my eyes open for hours – quite possibly days – and still I’m blind. There is not one inkling of light in this rock-walled pit. Nor is there fresh air. Or water, though the air is damp enough nearly to swim in. It’s also incredibly cold. I haven’t stopped shivering since I woke up in the first place. I haven’t moved out of this ball since I realized I’d never escape from here.

Not to mention the way that my ears keep popping with the pressure that only comes with being underground so deep.

Like the mines in District 12 – the ones we toured in Careers class.

All I remember from before coming here is a foggy memory of being hauled up into a hovercraft after giving myself up. I don’t remember the flight or the guards or anything that would tell me more than the fact that I’m in an impossibly dark pit that’s far too cold to be hell. I’d think it were death if I couldn’t feel the heart beat in my chest or the breath raking my exhausted lungs.

I’d scream if I thought I still had a voice after the first few hours.

 

 

There’s a sound to my right, like metal hitting metal. It rings in my ears and on the rock walls just beyond the damp dripping that almost keeps time with the pulse of my blood. In the distance are footsteps, solid and heavy, marching towards me.

The light that swings into view nearly blinds me as my pupils dilate to adjust. They burn so harshly that I have to hold my hand to my face to stop the ache from spreading further into my brain at the sudden change in vision.

“Mellark – get up,” The voice grunts. I hear a key turning in the gate and my instinct is to run. I’m on my feet and barreling towards the body before my eyes really even adjust to the swinging light of his flashlight. Pulling cues from my days of wrestling I lower myself and plow my shoulder into his chest, forcing us to the ground as he stumbles back. Like a wild animal, my fists collide with his jaw as I fight for my freedom. It’s my last hope.

When he stops responding, I don’t hesitate before grasping the flashlight and keys from his unconscious hands and bolting down the hallway ahead of me.

My feet are bare. They’re nearly numb as they scrape against the solid floor below me. The shock of it doesn’t seem to calm my racing heart or my panicked breaths as I take a set of stairs two at a time. On my right the walls turn from rock to dirt without notice and I almost stop to examine the change.

I can’t. This isn’t a time to stop.

Exhausted, my body pushes forward until my false foot catches on a step and I feel the floor rushing forward towards me. The shouting that I thought I’d imagined I heard from before encroaches closer and I don’t have a moment to escape the hands on my back or the fist that finds its way to my jaw, knocking me into the stone and forcing me into the black again.

 

 

“Boy have we got a surprise for you,” The cold voice wakes me up from the daze I’ve been having involving Katniss and I, swimming in a creek back home. It had been so nice.

I want to die.

“First we’re gunna string you up, and then pull out your nails. Maybe we’ll tweeze out your hair while we’re at it,” It continues on, the metal clinking noise back and filling the air.  With every collision my body tenses out of instinct, not yet ready to give up the fight.

“You won’t kill me,” I mumble almost incoherently, my swollen lip dragging against the floor. The voice laughs.

“Of course we won’t. We’ve got big plans.”

If I had the energy to shudder, I would have.

“Like what?”

Katniss’ voice fills my head then, sweetly filling my mind. Talk them into it. Talk them out of their secrets. You were always so good at manipulation. Use your words. Use them!

“Can’t tell you, leave that for the General.”

The clinking stops. The light flickers off. My eyes close and I sink back down into the memory of Katniss’ warmth seeping into mine as we share a bed in the cabins of the train during the Victory Tour. Though I think I hated the reasons then, I miss those intimate moments more than anything else in this world.

 

 

The room I’m in can be lit. Its bright now despite its grey rock walls covered in patches of moss and mold. Somewhere they’ve turned a light on and I’m no longer drowning in the dark. I’d be thankful if the light didn’t burn so brightly. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Looking around, I’m surrounded by three solid walls and a metal barred one. The room is narrow, not much larger than the span of my arms, and would scrape my head were I to stand. If I had any inclination to be claustrophobic, this room would push me over the edge. Thankfully, I’ve abandoned such foolish fears.

I hear the clicking of shoes on the cobbled floors before I see the group of people as their shadows approach. I don’t bother to move from my spot on the floor, not really even caring about how it looks to just roll over and die.

Though the dying part I’m still not sure of. I mean, they haven’t even started the torture they threatened me with. At least they could _follow through_ with their threats.

“Mellark, glad to see your heart still beats.”

The voice chills. The fear erupts into me like nothing I’ve ever felt. This isn’t what I expected or feared or even thought possible. This is worse. This means something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Or that all of my memories are _wrong_.

“Get up and stop behaving like a child,” Alma Coin barks from the other side of the bars.

There is no way in hell I’m moving. Not for her.

“I’ll kill her if you don’t get up.”

Fuck.

“What did you do?” My hands slam against the bars, reaching through the holes to try to wrangle her neck. There’s a viciousness inside of me that I didn’t know I had, one I don’t think I’ve ever truly embraced. But now it laces my veins and pulses in my blood. 

She simply laughs at my attempts.

“Now, now, boy. Settle down.” I bet she’d pat my head if she thought to get close enough.

My fingers find purchase on _something_ and I yank, violently. The resulting thump of a nearby guard against the bars surprises everyone before my hands are smacked with the type of jerry stick I only remember from a District 12 Peacekeeper. Reluctantly, I withdraw them back into my cage, daring them with my eyes to come in here to get me.

“Alright – are we able to see through the red now?” She mocks, picking at her fingers almost absentmindedly as her solid wall of hair swoops around her jaw. My mind floods with images of how best to kill her through these bars.

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask bitterly. I’m so utterly confused.

“We have a plan. You were merely a part of it. Like a latch that had to be caught at just the right time. Helped us out with that one, didn’t you?”

Grasping the bars again, my roar of anger surprises even _me_ as it escapes from my chest.

“See, when we brought you back from the Capitol, we expected a _true_ show from our crew. Instead all we got was another mouth to feed, a still standing Capitol and a Mockingjay who was just as embarrassing as she was before the rescue mission. As you might understand, we were less than impressed with the results,” Coin pauses and I watch her scratch her jaw with finely cared for nails. I’d like to rip out _her_ nails. “When you woke up, well, we tried to at least make use of you and get some details about the Capitol but you had that pesky amnesia. So we tried to cure it and wasted so many resources just for you to end up only remembering being a lovesick fool.”

“ _Stop_ ,” I hiss. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know that all of the efforts to bring me back weren’t for my own good – they were for District 13, an enemy just as terrifying as the Capitol. My team... I didn’t want to think that Aurelius and Lily had only been helping me under Coin’s orders.

“No Peeta, you see here, we wasted _a lot_ of resources on getting you back to ensure the Capitol’s destruction but none of it has produced any useful information. So we’re trying a different tactic this time around. Your capture, presumably by the Capitol, will lead to a natural order of progression. People will be up in arms, the surviving Victors – those with the real power of the people – will call for your rescue. And they have,” Her voice is almost threatening as she gets closer, her nose mere inches from mine. “See, our plan is already falling into place.”

“ _No_ ,” I refuse to believe it. I can’t. “But they’ll find me, they’re tracking me!” I nearly scream, latching on to the only thing I know might set me free and keep them all safe.

Coin barks in a laughter so cruel that I nearly cringe at the sound.

“Fool. They were never tracking _you_. You think they’d waste the time? They’ve been tracking that Cartwright girl for months – her identity was breached when she was brought back to the District before the bombings. It only became _useful_ to us when we figured out a way to use it. Not to mention you were so eager to get your memories back. We thought we’d hit a gold mine. But you’d all let us down, every single one of you District 12 pigs.”

Memories and ideas and her words all begin to blend together in my mind as they swirl and try to focus. She claims that I was never being tracked, that it had been Delly all along. She’d blamed me, forced me into the sewer with her accusations. And I’d gone willingly. I’d come here willingly. I’d played right into the trap that she’d so carefully lay for me, only to ensure that everyone else followed me in as well.

“What happens to them all, when they try to rescue me?” I reluctantly ask after a moment. Coin’s accompanying smile sets fear ablaze within me.

“We let them try to rescue you. From a prison in the Capitol. But funny enough, you’re not there. And we all know what happens after that...”

“Katniss goes to the source,” I finish weakly, acknowledging the next steps.

They’ll all go to the Capitol to try to rescue me. They’ll fight to break into a prison that doesn’t hold me. And when they can’t find me, they’ll seek out the President and assassinate him.  How many will be lost in the surge, it’s hard to predict. But there will be bodies.

“And Little Miss Mockingjay gets lost in the fray. Kill two birds with one stone – pardon the pun.”

I’m left reeling. It’s too clever, to smart, to even see a loop to out-think her. I’ve got nothing. I can’t help. I’ve lead them to their fucking slaughter by trying to save her.

“Why didn’t you just kill us with the hovercraft explosion? That was you, was it not?” Coin shakes her head, as though sadly admitting defeat.

“Alas, no. Vital men were on that hovercraft that we needed for the insurgency. The Capitol tracked the Cartwright girl from her rendezvous location and tried to take her out. She carries too many secrets to lose and the Capitol has seen this as a big loss and our gain,” Coin replies, almost growing tired with her answer.

“Why tell me all this? Why even bother to capture me and hold me here? Why not just kill me now?” I ask the questions that have been hanging on my mind, plaguing me since she first arrived at the gates to my cell.

“Because you’ve great value alive, Mellark. When the plan has been _executed_ we’ll ‘save’ you, sort of speak, and the people will rejoice. They’ll use you as their reward and rally. We need you to keep them mesmerized with your words.”

“And if I don’t participate?” The threat is obvious, even without saying.

“Then we kill her and let you suffer through it while still making you lead the people. People follow the strongest voice regardless of whether they’re Star-Crossed Lovers or mourning fools,” She finishes and I see a flash of humanity in her face. She understands people almost too well.

“Why not torture me then? Like your guards so often like to threaten?” Her toothy smile is back, curling her lips.

“We already have tortured you, I’d say, by telling you that this mission to save you leaves tonight. That your friends and your lover will be on it, and that likely by the end of the week they’ll all, with the likely exception of Katniss, be either Victors or cold bodies. Doesn’t that just squirm inside of you like a worm? Doesn’t that just eat your gut and make you sick? Is that torturous enough for you?”

 

 

I watch the hours pass. They’ve left me various clocks outside of my cage, all ticking loudly and all telling the wrong time. Well, as wrong as wrong can be when you’re looking at clocks and wondering just _what_ time is real.

You’ve no idea the fluidity of time until you stare at multiple clocks and try to figure it out.

Coin was right, this is a torture that I never thought I’d understand.

As each minute ticks by another fear flickers into my head. For hours I think of all of the ways that my loved ones can be dying within the Capitol’s walls. None of them are pretty or easy or even worth considering. They’re all terrible and furiously heart-wrenching. Each one turns my gut and I know that if I had anything but bile in my stomach I would lose it on the simple thought that Katniss was off fighting for something that she couldn’t even win.

In the end, I always picture her burning alive while an explosion rings out behind her. In my head, the flames engulf her as she screams until there’s nothing left. My vivid picture-filled imagination has become my worst nightmare.

Coin has turned me into a real weapon, but only towards myself.

It took the first little while for my brain to fully understand that all of my fears of being the Capitol’s tool were unfounded. Johanna’s words, my flashbacks, they’d all been hinged with some form of miscommunication that I hadn’t understood at the time.

Now it was so much clearer.

Well, at least as clear as it was going to get in this fucked up situation. I no longer knew who was friend or foe.

“Mellark, they’ve landed in the Capitol,” A voice echoes down the hallway. They’ve compacted my stress into my torture. I guess they’ll be giving me the play by play so I suffer through the whole ordeal.

My eyes find the clocks, trying to tell what time it is, but they’re all so close together or so far apart that I can’t even try to guess which one is right.

 

 

There’s no sleep, or food, down here in the pit. There are only clocks, the occasional blast of light, and the laughter off in the distance as the guards rotate out and click their sticks against the walls.

I would almost prefer the knives in my ribs, thank you very much.

It’s been eight hours since they left me the clocks. Though which eight hours, I’m not too sure.

I’m sitting in the corner when I first hear the gurgle and snap of something wet and hard. It catches me in the midst of another violent daydream in which Finnick is torn apart by barbed wire. Without hesitation, I huddle myself into the corner of the cell and try not to put my nails through the skin of my palms.

The commotion gets closer as I hear sputtering gasps from down the hall. My heart is beating wildly in my chest but I dare not make a sound.

“Mellark!” A familiar voice that I can’t quite place rings out down the hallway. I wish I could disappear into the rock face and never come out. I don’t want to know what news they have – it’s the absolute last thing that I ever want to know.

I can’t get the image of Katniss’ dead eyes from my head.

“Get up!” The man shouts as I feel his hands on my arm, pulling me upwards and preparing to throw me over a shoulder.

Instantly I’m back in fight mode, punching into the chest and back and jaw and anywhere else I can reach as I struggle to free myself from the iron grip that settles around my waist. I will not shout.

“Stop resisting!” My fist collides with the man’s neck and he’s knocked off balance, floundering until his body slumps against the rock wall. I’m stunned for a moment before I see him getting back to his feet and standing at nearly full height.

“Boggs?” It escapes me like a wisp. There’s no wrapping my mind around this one. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting you out of here before Coin realizes what’s going on – or do you want to stay down here forever?”


	21. Chapter 21

I try to run and keep up with Boggs as we travel through the corridors but too soon I’m winded and exhausted, my body struggling to stay upright after too long in the dark pit of a cell. The man takes notice immediately to my fading energy, especially when I slump against the wall and rub my head against the cool stone.

I almost forgot how soft stone could be.

When I flutter back into a stable consciousness I find myself thrown over his shoulder, facing the floor as he walks up sets of stairs.

“Boggs, let me down,” I insist, my hands finding his back and trying to push myself off his shoulder. I must weigh a tonne and he’s already been carrying me for far too long to not be tired.

All I get in return is a grunt and his arms gripping more firmly against my thighs, his fingers wrapping around my knee caps in a renewed death grip.

He knew better than to let me down – smart man – I’m out again in a moment as my stomach rolls with hunger and thirst.

 

 

 

Someone is snapping. Somewhere the air is like thunder. The ground is moving and I’m no longer surrounded by stone or dirt. The air isn’t damp either. My eyes open with a start and I shoot forward, preparing to strike at whatever force is coming after me. It takes me a moment to notice that we’re in a hovercraft and that it’s suspended in the air.

Delly sits in front of me, leaning back as my hand curls in her shirt, her fingers mid-snap. Though she looks shocked, she doesn’t look frightened. Time at war has hardened Delly, I can see it clear as day without taking in the scar on her chin or the darkness to her once bright blue eyes.

“Where are we?” I ask, letting my fingers relax on her lapels but not quite letting go. Not just yet.

“On a hovercraft heading towards the Capitol.” Her reply is curt and steady, her voice not shaking for a moment as she announces my most feared destination. I stare at her in return, trying to put it all together as her hands slowly remove my grip.

“They’re trying to rescue me – but I’m not there, real?” I just need to sort this out a little first.

“That’s right, Peeta. We’re going to intervene on the mission. What else?”

In a simple moment, Delly has turned the tables on me and has made this about what _I_ remember, not what I’m asking. It’s as though she understands completely that my memory needs to be working in order for me to truly understand the context of a situation.

She understands what’s going on, better than perhaps even me.

“They’re going to get themselves killed because Coin told them to. Boggs rescued me. You’re here, for some reason?” I ask at the end, not really putting that piece of the puzzle together. Though Delly has shown herself to be trustworthy, I’m missing the part where she’s shown her qualifications to a man such as Boggs.

“I believe in getting the whole team back – I care about them as well. Not to mention I’m the best Capitol-knowledge miner that District 13 has had in a long time, if not forever. I know the ins and the outs and I can get us to the checkpoints before the team does. We’ll catch up to them and bring everyone home safe,” she says, nodding at the end and handing me an energy bar and water as though taking the time to reassure herself of the plan. Her hand still hasn’t let go of mine after taking it from her lapels. That’s alright with me; I could use the comfort right now.

Katniss is in the Capitol again. The idea makes my heart nearly beat out of my chest.

I let Delly explain the details of Boggs’ plan to me as best as she can, allowing her to expand upon the finer points that seem a little fuzzy to me at the edges. When I ask her what the plan is at the end, when we have to come back to District 13, she can’t meet my eyes as she says they haven’t thought that far ahead.

Mostly because they don’t know what to do with _me_ and with _Katniss_. Coin could write off the return of the whole team as a positive thing for the District, but the plan was to return with only one of us, if any at all.

Coin would never stop trying to hunt us down, just as the Capitol would never set its Victor’s free after their Games. The cycle would never stop, no matter who was in charge.

She lets me try to sleep again then, seeing my eyes droop and my head sway slightly to the right as I listen to her recount the schedule on a single clock that doesn’t quite haunt me as much as the others did. I curl up on my side on the medical bed and watch as she tries to stifle a yawn of her own.

“You can lay down, Delly,” I insist after a moment, shifting backwards to make space on the mattress. She barks a laugh and looks at me incredulously.

“Is that really a good idea?” She responds, dropping our hands and turning the mood slightly sour. I know I’m missing something here, that the puzzle pieces aren’t quite fitting right. It makes me nervous for the questions that will inevitably come up in the future between us.

“It’s only sleep – we used to do it as kids all the time, right?” She nods, her left hand idly twisting in her hair as she looks to the hull of the ship. “Well, come on. Nothing has changed.”

Reluctantly, she steps towards the bed and watches me for any reaction. All I can do is yawn, too tired to be mixing with any of her cautious actions. When finally she slips onto the mattress and faces me evenly, I grin and poke my finger into her forearm playfully.

“See? Not so bad.”

“I’m sorry Peeta, for everything!” She blurts, surprising me as she claps a hand over her mouth and her cheeks burn a bright and vibrant red.

“For?” I ask half-heartedly, offering my hand as an olive branch even though I’m not exactly sure which part of my history she’s apologizing for. There are so many parts that still remain jumbled, it could be anything really. She takes my fingers with gusto and squeezes, her palm slightly damp with nervous sweat.

“For that time in my unit, and for leaving, and for not saying goodbye, and betraying you and Katniss and thinking it was okay because it was for the best, and for getting us caught and shot down and everything! I’m just sorry!” Her shouts echo against the metal walls, bouncing around in my head and out. The images that her words bring start to come to the forefront of my mind in hazy shades – mere ideas of what they once used to be as memories. When I look at her again after a flash of us together on a bed, I see the tears in her eyes and feel my gut clench in response.

“But we didn’t – I didn’t think we... We didn’t right?” I struggle to put the words out there, reassuring myself that I’m just confused. That this is all just some bizarre game that we’re playing.

“No! We didn’t! I swear! But at the time I was researching the effects of your... effects, in the Capitol – at least the files that I could find – and they mentioned arousal was a good distracter from the aftershocks – you know the effects that made you have seizures? And so I thought I’d try it because we’d been... Happy together, and well, it kind of worked? Maybe?”  If by worked she means I didn’t seize up, then yes, it worked.

I nod. I can accept that it was a tool to use. We were friends. Hell, I hadn’t even known the significance of Katniss then. And from what I remember, I’d probably been the person initiating it all. I’d only wanted someone to sleep next to, in all honesty. And Delly had been there for me.

“So you know that you’re being tracked?” I ask then, changing the topic and straying from her obvious guilt for those actions. She shouldn’t linger in them; they’re not fair to her.

“Boggs told me when he explained what he was going to do to get you out. Goddamn Coin, didn’t think to tell me I was endangering squads every time I was deployed. It’s like she learned nothing from her own defence intelligence classes,” she huffs, seemingly dismissing the earlier tension just as I had.

And just like that, we’re back to the level of friendship that I’d missed from her for so long. It’s no longer awkward to lay here next to her and hold her hand for comfort. We’re friends, lifelong friends, and nothing can take that away from us. I still love Katniss. I’ll still die for her. I just need Delly as my friend, no matter the mistakes we’ve made in the past that may have pushed us into unknown territory.

I’m almost asleep, my eyes closed as we talk to each other blindly, when I bring up the last thing on my list that’s been bothering me since Delly crashed back into my life.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why you left, I mean.”

I remember this as a vivid point in my recovery, when Delly had simply just disappeared. It had knocked me off kilter and made my levels of distrust nearly sky rocket. It had also made me doubt myself and my abilities to trust or _know_ anyone. I’d also felt so incredibly lonely without her.

“Coin told me... I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but she said that you were glad I was being sent out. She said that all the reports she was getting were stating that you were angry with me for my behaviour during the Victor video release. I might have taken it personally instead of questioning it – but Coin... She had this way about her,” Delly surmises, her voice moving in and out of focus as she drifts between sleep.

Honestly, I don’t really know what she’s talking about. Coin has always left a bad taste in my mouth and I’ve never seen the allure. I can see though, from Delly’s perspective, that this woman was leading a war against the great enemy of our time. Why _shouldn’t_ she trust her?

I couldn’t say any of this out loud.

Instead, all I did was give her hand a squeeze and let myself drift off, determined to put behind me the nagging feeling that I hadn’t really gotten the answer I wanted.

 

 

 

 Boggs is standing over us, shaking my shoulder with one hand and forcing a gun at me with the other. I take both as I sit up and shift so that Delly can place her feet on the floor.

“We’re landing in half an hour. I assume you’ve briefed him?” The man shifts, turning to hand Delly her weapons belt that she’d stashed somewhere earlier while I was out.

“Yes, sir,” she replies and gets to her feet, handling the unsteady shifting of the hovercraft with ease.

“Good. Get a move on kids; we meet them before the prison at 2100 hours.”

And then he’s gone and I’m trying to find a set of clothes that will suit me in the Capitol.

Thank God for Delly.

Turning  around from the hidden closet, thrusting into my hands a hanger set that’s laden with a bright blue shirt with yellow sequins and a pair of matching trousers, Delly grins. I nearly flinch at the sight of the outfit, which means it’s exactly what the Capitol will have in season.

“Really?” I beg, staring her down as she pushes the clothes into my hands. She nods absently and turns back, reaching for her own sequined outfit that somehow tucks in around her belt and weaponry with ease.

Ten minutes later, we’re loaded up and ready to roll out.

“We’ll approach from Pomerium Street and head east to the City Circle. From there, we’ll grab the underground out to the Carcer Station and go to ground until the unit arrives from the sewers – got it?” Delly reminds again, clicking her ammo in and out of her handgun with fluid ease.

She looks almost terrifying in her blue Capitol garb and her hasty make up that screams ‘Capitol style’. It makes my stomach turn – or that could be the absolute terror that is overwhelming me at the moment. Either or.

“Why _are_ they approaching from the sewers?” I ask, my words choking halfway as my mouth dries. There are so many ideas I have floating around in my head as to why, but I just can’t pick one. Sure it could be identification issues – but that could have been avoided by sending an anonymous group. Or they were worried about guns in public. Or riots. Or the distance.

“Certain sections of the city have been cordoned off due to bomb threats from unknown rebel groups. They’ve activated what they call ‘pods’ on ground level which are like a host of muttations or weapons that react to contact. The sewer systems track fewer devices and are typically off during the day in order to continue scheduled maintenance.”

Oh. So it could be worse than my imagination.

The way in which Delly rambles off the information with such detail has me looking at her with a new-found appreciation and a bizarre desire to thank her for every single thing that she has ever done for me from helping me hide the bruising from my mother all the way to coming to the Capitol with Boggs to save Katniss and anyone else on the team.  

But I don’t. I’ll save those words for later, when the time comes to speak of little things.

Right now, we’re jumping from the craft onto the closest roof and heading for the staircase. We circle downwards, taking quick steps until we enter the lobby. In an instant, Boggs and Delly seem to blend in as I flounder in my pretend clothes. Without missing a beat, Delly loops her arm in mine and casually leads us onto the street where we begin heading towards the City Circle.

The trek takes us no more than an hour, though the subway being delayed causes me to nearly rub holes in my pants as my sweaty palms grip at my knees.

I can’t help but think that we have to get there in time. I need my memories to be real. I need her to be real. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I just need her here, with me, safe. That’s all I want. Don’t I deserve that? Don’t we all deserve that?

It’s then that I decide that we’re going to take down the Capitol. Today. No matter what.


	22. Chapter 22

They’re two hours late. Two hours.

I look between Delly and Boggs. The old man paces while Delly twists her hands in her lap, every so often looking at the sewer grate where the team should be emerging any minute.

Should have emerged two hours ago.

“Do we ever go down there and look for them?” I ask desperately, finally getting to my feet from the seat I’ve been in for the last few hours.

“No – it’s too dangerous. We don’t know where the pods are down there,” Delly answers without looking up. Boggs doesn’t stop pacing so I join him, my hands twitching on the butt of my gun.

We wait longer still as the alley we’re hiding out in seems to darken with the end of the day. We’ve been here for hours and I’m having trouble kicking the feeling of panic out of my gut. It’s eating away at me.

“What do we do?” I rant, running my hands through my dishevelled hair, exasperated.

“Sit down, Peeta. They could have gotten lost, or turned around, or had to take another route. They’ll get here; their team lead is one of the best they have.” Her words, so sure, only seem to gear on my nerves. I can’t sit. I keep pacing.

Until the most subtle scrape of metal comes from the lid to the sewer and a gun blast echoes out. Delly shouts for us to take cover as the lid rolls away from the hole and six black figures haul themselves out of the ground with guns raised. I duck myself behind a box down the alley and watch as they scan the area, looking for us in every detail.

“Enemy vacated – area clear,” A unknown voice rings out and the rest of the team seems to relax only slightly. I notice then that because I don’t recognize the voice, I’m already doubting that this is who we’re looking for. Strangers? They won’t trust me. Dammit.

“Command alpha uniform tango hotel oscar romeo,” Boggs shouts from somewhere down the alley. The bodies before me stop moving and raise their guns again, tensing for the battle that they think is about to come down on them.

“Show yourself, friendlies.” A gruff voice, one I know clear as day, rings out. Gale.

Boggs is the first to stand, arms raised and face clear of any decoy cover. He looks ridiculous in his Capitol garb as he presents himself to what I only know to be his subordinate.

“Boggs?” Gale states disbelievingly.

“This mission is flawed – we need to intervene,” Boggs replies, stepping forward towards the group.

He doesn’t expect it. _I_ don’t expect it. But a body clad in black smacks into his chest and knocks him to the ground, scuffling with him and screaming. I’m up in a start. I know her. I know her screams and her movements and her body. Scrambling across the alley I hear shouts for me to freeze, commands for me to stop, but I disregard it all. I reach her in a moment and wrap my arms around her torso, pulling her backwards until we’re falling onto the ground behind me. She rounds on me in an instant, her fists colliding with my chest as she shouts non-sensical things.

The click of a gun overhead startles us both.

“Get up,” Delly commands, her gun focused on the body lying atop me. My heart stutters in my chest as my best-friend’s eyes glitter with a determined haze. I plead with her silently, begging her to step back and see what I see. “Peeta, see to Boggs,” She orders and grabs the collar of the black soldier, effectively pulling her off of me.

“Delly, stop,” I demand, finally finding my voice. When I look at her after getting to my feet she’s already got the gun pointed to the figure’s head as she kneels on the ground. My chest constricts. I need to get her helmet off. “Everyone stop!” I shout louder and turn, determined to dissipate the tension surrounding us.

Stepping closer to Delly I push away her gun and fall to my feet in front of the figure, sinking down so that my eyes are level with hers as I lift the cover of her helmet. Steely grey eyes stare back at me and my breath gets stuck in my chest.

“You’re real,” I whisper almost inaudibly. Her body slams into mine and knocks me backwards in her embrace. In that moment I’m ignorant to anything happening around me. It’s only me and Katniss. It’s only us.

“You’re free! I don’t understand. What’s going on?” She rambles against me, removing her helmet completely and tucking her head into my blue outfit. Over her shoulder I watch as the other black figures shuffle on their feet as they lower their guns.

“I missed you so much,” I say instead, disregarding her questions and pulling her close.

We sit together for a moment longer and then the sound of a clearing throat breaks between us and we pull apart, scrambling to our feet. I look around then and notice everyone has removed their helmets. I’m surprised by the people surrounding me, not expecting to see some of them and not knowing the others apart from passing during battle training.

Before me stands a man named Mitchell, famed for close-combat. Beside him is someone I don’t recognize, though if he’s still standing unbound he must be trusted. Behind them are the two people I’m most shocked to see – Lily and Aurelius. They’re out of place here, among these trained soldiers, but they seem to hold their own and I’m baffled. On the side, Gale stands next to Delly so closely that had I not been paying attention, I would have missed the way they invade each other’s space suggesting something more than idle friendship.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask Lily and Aurelius first, stepping forward and feeling Katniss move with me like a shadow.

“We were ordered here in the event you needed further medical attention. They thought people familiar with your treatment would be the best option in case you were... Problematic,” Aurelius states carefully.

He has a point; there is some logic to that. But I can’t dismiss the fact that these two are completely unprepared for a mission. I can’t ignore that they were likely sent here to die in the mission, just like Katniss, in hopes to wipe my history off the map. Another part in Coin’s plan. It makes me sick.

“Why aren’t you in lock down?” Gale asks after a moment, quiet suspicion lining his words.

“The Capitol never captured me.” I state carefully. I feel Katniss lace her fingers with mine as Aurelius and Lily take a tiny step forward. “It was Coin. She had me in a cell underground. It was all a ploy to get you all out here. This is a suicide mission.”

Gale looks accosted; his gaze roaming over my shoulder to where I can only assume Boggs has regained his feet behind me. The tight nod I see in response tells me that he won’t argue.

Apparently few District 13 people really had faith in the ambivalence of their fearless leader.

“What do we do now?” Mitchell asks after a moment of silence as we all let the feeling of being double-crossed sink in.

“We take down the Capitol. Then we take down Coin.” I state evenly in response. Nobody jumps at my suggestion but nobody denies it either. Now is the time, if any. We’re already so deep inside the border.

“How?” Lily asks carefully, her eyes flicking between Katniss and I every so often. I don’t miss the tension that still lingers in her thoughts regarding the two of us being together.

“We go after Snow,” Delly whispers, her voice cracking in the dark of the alley. Night has fully set in now.

“In the morning – we need to rest,” Gale adds quietly. I see Delly nod in the dark, her blonde hair shifting in the moonlight.

“I know a place – two blocks from here. She has a safe room that we can use.”

All of us remain silent as Delly and Gale seemingly take charge of these missions, as though they were the ones to originally plan them in the first place.

When I sneak a look at Boggs, he’s practically become submissive, instead choosing to linger in the back of the group. Part of me can’t help but think it’s because he’s from 13 and not from 12 like the majority of us.

Katniss and I somehow find ourselves in the middle of the pack, bordered on each side by Aurelius and Mitchell, as we walk through the connecting alleyways and then towards the street. At the edge of the sidewalk, Delly holds up her hand as though to tell us to stop. Katniss doesn’t say a word, only gripping my hand harder.

I don’t have time to wonder why she’s been so quiet.

“I need to make sure she’s there – stay here,” Delly whispers and starts to move forward just as Gale grips her shoulder to halt her.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he growls tightly. Delly shrugs his arm off and pats his cheek with a small smile on her lips.

“She knows me best. Just wait.” And then she’s gone, disappearing into the dark street and only flashing up under the scattered streetlights. We all watch with baited breath as the door opens and Delly steps inside. The minutes pass in a tense silence. A car drive’s by and we all shift until we’re hidden in the shadows. My heart nearly erupts from my chest as I hold Katniss’ hand to my chin. When Delly returns, she doesn’t say a thing. Instead she motions us forward in groups, shuffling us through the door and into the cluttered shop without a word.

The woman inside hides in the shadows. Nobody dare say a word as we’re drawn into a back room where the door is closed on us with a thump. The slide of a lock into place sets my blood on fire and I want to scratch at the door like a trapped animal. Struggling with the urge, I turn to Delly who’s whispering frantically to Gale in the corner of the room.

“What do we do now?” Katniss asks, speaking up for the first time in a long while.

“We wait until morning. Then we go to the City Circle and tour the President’s mansion.” I gawk at Delly. There is no way in hell they’re letting us in. None at all. _This_ plan is suicide.

“They still offer _tours_?” Aurelius gasps, staring at her and voicing what we’re all thinking. Delly nods, looking between all of us.

“Snow is so determined to keep the Capitol as normal as possible. That means that the tours haven’t stopped. We’ll get in and then Polox has a friend on the inside that will get us through the security.”

It seems too farfetched. Too impossible.

“It’s our best hope,” Gale adds quietly, bringing us all out of our contemplative moment. I notice then that he and Delly are far closer than they’ve let on. I wonder how long they’ve been working together and if Katniss even sees it. Gale’s her best friend – does she even know?

“Let’s get some sleep,” Lily mutters after a moment, her voice shaking slightly. I can’t miss the desperate look that flits to Katniss at my side. I don’t know what to make of it really but I don’t want to linger on it as I’m drawn to a corner of the room where a pile of fabrics are clustered. I collapse down, letting my body relax the tension I’ve been holding for days as Katniss slips down beside me. Her mother watches us silently from the other side of the room and I doubt Katniss realizes the looks we’re getting from the team.

“You’ve been quiet,” I murmur, my hands drifting across her cheek as she lays her head against my chest.

“I think I’m still in shock.” I nod, ghosting my fingers along the length of her arm.

“I’m here now. I wasn’t being tortured by the Capitol.”

“I know. But the truth is worse – don’t you think?” Stealing a breath, I pull her closer with my arm and turn my face into her hair.

“It doesn’t matter right now. We’ll deal with it when it comes. Right now we sleep.” Since when did I become to voice of reason? Not too long ago I’d been determined to get my memories back, so much so that I was likely considered crazy because I thought it worth dying for. And now that I have them, constantly reminding me of what I have and have lost, I feel so familiar to the way I once was. My priorities have shifted, maybe.

I have Katniss now. And we’re going to destroy the Capitol. And then we’re going to be free and run to wherever Finnick promised to take us and Annie.

That’s what I dream about when my breaths even out and Katniss’ hand releases its white-knuckled grasp on my shirt.  

 

 

 

When we wake I find that Katniss has wrapped herself around me in every way possible. Her fingers are hooked in my belt loops, her leg is over and under mine, and her chin is tucked against my neck so that I feel every small and measured breath that escapes her lips.

I’ve dreamed about waking up like this. I think I’ve even a memory of it somewhere. But still, the reality of it works its way inside and nearly breaks me. I want to wake up like this every morning, until the end of time.

“Time to break it up, kids,” Boggs states quietly overhead as he clips on his belt. I nod, noticing that everyone except Mitchell is already up and moving around the safe room as though pacing before a fight.

“It’s time to get up, beautiful,” I murmur into her ear, rousing her with a soft press of my lips to her jaw. She groans lowly as she tightens her arms around me. I don’t want to pry her loose, but she leaves me no choice. When I’m finally crouching over her, trying to pull her out of her sleep, my stomach growls loudly. Everyone seems to notice.

“Guess we need some food,” Aurelius jokes lightly. I grin back sadly, knowing that it’s unlikely. I’ve barely eaten since the cells; I doubt it’ll be anytime soon before I get a decent meal in me. At least I’m used to it.

Fifteen minutes later we’re all chomping at the bit to get out of the room. Delly reminds us every five minutes that her contact runs like clockwork – that we’ll get out of here the exact moment she arrives at nine in the morning. None of us really trust it – just like we wouldn’t trust anything in the Capitol.  

Her contact doesn’t fail. We’re let out of the room with shuffling feet as the woman puts a wrapped sandwich in each of our hands. She also brought clothing – catchy items from the Capitol to throw over the team’s black uniform. Thankfully, my outfit from the day prior is still considered appropriate.

In another moment, we’re back out on the street as Delly gives the woman a small smile of thanks. She leads us deftly through the morning rush of people, keeping us together as we head towards the City Circle. It’s not long before the daunting scene of the President’s mansion comes looming across the skyline and into sight. Aurelius nearly stumbles over me as I come up short.

“Sorry,” I grumble, not able to move any closer. The team around me slows their steps and sends a glance my way, cautiously reminding me we need to fit in. It’s Katniss at my side who tucks her hand around my waist that pulls me forward and to the building queue at the east entrance to the house.

Apparently, according to Delly, people come here for fun to see the rose gardens and taste the water.

I don’t get the appeal.

At half past ten, the first group is granted entry with a tour guide named Marco. Around eleven, another guide arrives with wild yellow hair and introduces himself as Andres. We’re up. Putting on an extravagant smile, each of us are lead into the building and down the hall. Ahead I see a bank of scanners and strange machines monitored by a group of Peacekeepers. The machines beep incessantly while another group of citizens prepare to start touring the building. My skin prickles at the sight, not sure whether that’s the direction that we want to head. I watch as the people unload their watches, wallets and any items from their pockets.

Everything they dump seems to be metal. I frown.

“First, we’ll come this way through the security check point!” Andres chirps ahead of the group. The team all swivels only slightly to look at Delly over their shoulders. We’re all loaded down with weaponry. There’s no way we’ll pass security.

We’re going to get caught.

Delly simply smiles up ahead and wanders away from Gale and towards Andres. She flutters her eyelashes and lays a hand on his arm as the first part of our group go in. While she’s gone, Polox drifts to the side and approaches a silent Avox. Upon sight, the man’s face pale’s and he shifts closer to where the Peacekeepers are monitoring the machines.

When it’s time for Boggs to walk through, I catch out of the corner of my eye as the Avox assisting the Peacekeeper guards presses a button on the machine’s side. It’s small and subtle and nobody seems to notice but me.

Boggs gets through clear. All the while Delly keeps her eyes locked on Andres as he recounts how the mansion was first built in the Dark Days.

My time at the scanner comes up quickly and I force Katniss through the gate first. When she’s cleared, I walk through on shaking feet and clench my eyes shut for fear of getting caught. Nothing happens. I breathe a little easier.

The last one through is Delly, accompanied by Andres who has a hand placed on the small of her back. My eyes flick inadvertently to Gale who seems to be scowling at the two. My eyes plead silently with him to keep his mouth shut – Delly knows what she’s doing. Thankfully, I’m not the only one who sees the issue. Boggs steps forward without a word and guides Gale down the hallway and around a corner.  

At that exact moment, I realize that we’re in. My hand finds Katniss’ at my side and grips it hard.

We’re going to take down the Capitol from the inside out.


	23. Chapter 23

“And to your right we see the balcony from which the President makes his annual address to open the Hunger Games!” Andres booms, his words dripping with pride as the crowd around us gasps and claps joyfully. Like a herd, they shift closer and look out the great French doors that stretch up at least twenty feet into the vaulted ceilings. Before us, the city spans out in sprawling juts of buildings that reach the sky. It would be gorgeous, much like the view I remember from the Training Center roof, if only it didn’t tell of something much more ominous.

Like most of our tour, I’m astounded by the beauty of the mansion – the fine architectural lines, the crisp and classical furniture that looks like things I’ve only seen in pictures from the Dark Days. Somewhere along the way, we passed through a Reading Room with walls that were completely lined with books of all sizes and colours.

If only the President didn’t make me want to set the world alight, maybe I could actually enjoy my time in this house.

But for every moment I wish that, I remember the pangs of hunger that I used to feel as a child. I remember the way Katniss had looked, starving at my back door, and I know that no one person should ever have this much. No single individual should ever have such incredible wealth while the rest of the people starve.

The beauty only seems to make my anger simmer deeper and when we turn the corner after Andres the simmer turns to a boil.

Before us, the green house stretches out like a field of greens and whites and reds and pinks. The smell of roses is thick, nearly suffocating, as we’re lead down an aisle. Next to me a Capitol woman pulls in a breath through her nose and nearly faints, grabbing herself at the last minute. I don’t miss the dreamy smile on her face or the way her hands flutter to her cheeks.

“I _love_ this smell, don’t you Claude?” She piques, turning to the man who stands behind her in a bright orange glow. He nods appropriately and I can’t tear my eyes away from the way his hair seems to float as though it’s suspended in water. Beside me, I feel Katniss shudder.

“You alright?” I murmur into her ear, putting on my best ‘seductive’ face in the event that any of the Capitol citizens surrounding us see us.

“I want to puke,” she whispers back darkly and squeezes my hand. Looking up I watch as Boggs and Gale slip from the room while the rest of the tour reveres in the President’s famous rose garden.

“Now, everyone, your attention please!” Andres shouts, clapping his hands as he stands near the front of the group. “Please! The ink stamps that you received through security will expire in one hour. Feel free to wander through the grounds as you wish. Please note that due to increased security concerns, Peacekeepers are able to escort you from the building at any point. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

I steal a glance across the room at Aurelius and Lily who nod in return, heading down the rows of the rose garden and looking at a small patch of lilies near the back. My eyes search for Delly, only to find her arm in arm with Andres who’s laughing heavily and walking them towards a door off the side of the room.

I say a silent thanks that Boggs and Gale have already left the room with Mitchell and Pollux.

 _Shit_.

Turning to Katniss, I rest my arm across her shoulders and steer her out of the stench of roses and into the cool air of the towering hallway. Together we walk, tucking ourselves up against the wall and pausing every so often to look out the great windows.

“We’ve split up,” Katniss whispers, lifting onto her toes for a chaste kiss. I’m sure that should there be someone listening in, it would be hard to hear her next words. “Where do we go first?”

I remember reading a book in school once. It was a murder mystery that had been translated from a book that was written in the Dark Days, or just before them, or something like that. I remember though that the character in the book discovered the murderer’s lair in his library by pulling on a book that didn’t look quite right. It had stuck with me because I’d thought it was the coolest idea and I’d wanted to share it with Katniss (along with a whole list of other things) when I started finally talking to her.

I’d never shared the fact with her.

“Let’s look in the library,” I urge, and take her hand, leading us down the long corridor to where I remember the room with all the books was tucked away.

Stepping across the threshold, it was obvious that the space wasn’t a popular one on the tour. None of the Capitol fools had found their way back here and I figured they were unlikely to come at all.

“Look for a secret door or something. Maybe it’s hidden by the books so try pulling them out. Keep with the ones at arm height,” I state quietly so as to not alert the microphones likely littering the room. Katniss giggles, as though putting on a show, and begins pulling at books haphazardly. I watch her for a moment, drawing in the sight of her in her Capitol garb with her hair pulled back. I have to fight the urge to pull her close and breathe her in, to drag her out of here and to a safe place where we never have to think about the Capitol again.

But I can’t because we’re here and we’re going to destroy it, even if it takes my last breath.

We search for a little over twenty minutes before I hear Katniss across the room, calling quietly to me but doing so in a way I’ve never heard her do before. It’s haunting and surreal and when I look over, her hand is cradling a large book that she’s pulled off a bottom shelf. It looks old, decades old, and the cover is leather bound and cracked.

“What is it?” I ask carefully, looking over her shoulder at the colourful images contained within. My stomach lurches as my brain connects the pools of blood with the collections of bodies – a telling photo of the Games and the brutality that consumes its Victors. Every page is collaged with different images, as though someone has compiled a scrapbook of their favourite deaths.

Katniss lurches forward, stumbling from her steady spot and falling to her knees. I grab the book from her grip before she expels her stomach bile onto the floor, coating the dark wood in a vibrant green shade. Setting the book off to the side I kneel down beside her and brush the wisps of hair from her face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I whisper by her side quietly, trying to calm the dry heaves that seem to be wrecking her body. When she’s finally able to sit back on her heels and look at me, I inwardly cringe. She’s pale and gaunt and looks like she’s haunted.

“Why would anyone keep that?” She asks though we both know exactly why President Snow has a book such as this. Together we sit in silence for a moment, trying to push the images out of our mind until Katniss is able to stop shaking.

“We need to keep looking.” Getting back to my feet, I make my way over to the shelves closest to the window and begin tapping them with my finger. I don’t look at the covers, nor the bindings – I don’t want to know what this man reads for pleasure.

I’m halfway through the room when one of the books gives way to something unusual. I turn to Katniss, calling out to her, just before the floor gives out below me and I’m falling downwards and into pure black air. The smell of dust and mold and something damp sends me staggering back to my days in the Capitol and my days in the depths of 13.

“Katniss!” I scream, my voice echoing on the walls around me. Above or below or somewhere around me I hear scratches and pounding sounds. I spin on my heel, determined to face whatever is coming for me head on. But it doesn’t come. The noise stops and then it’s silent, ever encompassing and suffocating. “Katniss!” I cry out again, desperate for some reverberation that tells me where I am.

I don’t want to die down here.

The sound of scraping metal and a sliding plate catches me off guard and then I hear it, the screams as Katniss falls above me. When she hits the ground right where I was just standing, I force myself forward to lean over her, feeling for her arms and legs and her face until my fingers caress her cheeks. Her screams abruptly stop and I let out a breath, knowing that she’s here and breathing.

“Peeta? Goddammit Peeta,” Katniss hisses, throwing her arms around my neck and pulling me close. I want to laugh at the close call, if only to lessen the tension, but my heart isn’t in it. When we do finally pull apart, it’s Katniss who takes the lead, dragging me along the edge of the wall and further into the black.

It seems to drag on forever, this dark tunnel under the library. We walk on unsteady feet, moving through the black quietly, the only sound echoing around us that of my prosthetic which clicks with every step.

Finally, unexpectedly, we come upon a hollow wooden door that Katniss knocks her knuckle against softly. The sound doesn’t go unnoticed and without warning, the door swings backwards and we’re blinded by the light. Cracking open an eye, my hand held aloft to shutter the brightness, I look forward and see a group of men staring at us. They’re dressed in solid black, hats on their head denoting their station as servers.

Katniss moves to step into the light but I grip her arm, forcing her back to my side as we stare at them.

“Please don’t kill us,” I request solemnly. The first man nods and steps aside, ushering us in silently. They must be Avox, else they likely wouldn’t work in the President’s mansion.

Beyond the door we see a kitchen the size of the District 12 Justice Building, large machines of all shapes and sizes spreading out and lining the walls. There’s about thirty men down here, all dressed in black, all completely silent, as Katniss and I step into the room. Some seem to recognize us instantly through the costume, others quirk an eyebrow.

When one Avox steps forward and offers us his hand, Katniss steps forward and takes it, and I watch as she meets the man’s steady gaze head on. Slowly, the man lifts Katniss knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss, an unfamiliar greeting.

“We’ve come to finish this,” Katniss states carefully, looking around the room. If we were anywhere else, I would burst with pride at the strength that she draws. But we’re in the depths of the beast and the only way out is to bring it all down.

The first man to step forward is not the man who shook her hand. Instead he’s young, dark haired, and wears a set of glasses. He pulls out a pad of paper and a pen, jotting down a few quick words before handing it to Katniss.

 _What’s the plan_?

Katniss nods and hands it back, both palms up as a sign of respect, and looks around the room until her gaze finds mine. “We’re winging it. Where does he sleep? How do we get there? What time is it?” She rambles off questions, all the while the man with the paper jots down answers. When she’s finished, he hands the pad back with a tentative smile.

_The master bedroom – 2 Peacekeepers_

_We can take you_

_After 2pm_

She looks up again at him and nods, turning to me. “I say we try to kill him at dinner.” Her eyes are shining and I catch sight of the way her breaths are coming short and fast. Above her brow is a steady line that she only gets when she’s in pain.

“Are you alright?” I ask carefully, dismissing her statement. I won’t do this without her.

“It’s nothing – I’m fine. At dinner?” She pauses and turns around the room again. “Can we get word out to our allies? They’re with another...” She hesitates, clearly aware that she might offend these people by calling them by what they are instead of who they are. “They’re with Pollux, he’s like you.”

The man before us nods and snaps his fingers, dismissing three Avox servers without a word. Katniss turns back after watching them go and I see her flinch.

“You’re not okay – what’s wrong?” I insist, grabbing her hand. The Avox nearest us steps back and then disappears into the group – I try not to consider what he’s doing. “Katniss, you have to tell me.” My words are one syllable away from being panicked.

“It’s nothing Peeta – just my hip, remember? There’s been a lot of movement today, that’s all.” She nods, as though reassuring herself. I squeeze her hand tightly in mine, watching her for a moment longer, before we turn back to the group who has steadily returned to their duties. The Avox who disappeared earlier comes towards us insistently, reaching for Katniss with his hand outstretched.

“No,” I jerk, stepping in front of her and blocking his hand. The menacing look in my eyes forces the man back, his hands held upwards as a symbol of peace, before he pats his pockets to find his pen and paper. Pulling it out, he scribbles frantically and then hands the sheet to me.

_Medical help?_

When I look up, the man’s face is tight with concern before he points to Katniss and then loops his thumbs together, flapping his fingers like a bird. He knows that she’s the Mockingjay. I turn to Katniss and show her the paper. She shakes her head and thrusts it back.

“No, I’m fine.” She insists and steps forward towards one of the counters to watch the meal being prepared.

The distance between us grows and for a second, I don’t know what to do with my empty hands. It’s clear that Katniss is hiding something from me, but now isn’t the time to pry. We need to get through this together. Get through it alive.

 

 

 

It’s another hour before the Avox servants have found most of our missing team members. We wait patiently for each of them to be snuck into the depths of the mansion, somehow passing through security without any issue. I’m probably the most baffled by the fact that things seem to be going seamlessly.

Apart from Delly. She still hasn’t been located after her disappearance with Andres a few hours earlier and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Every so often I’ll catch Gale glancing towards the doorway of the kitchens, waiting for her to walk in with another Avox.

“Alright, everyone,” Boggs starts, addressing the team as we sit around a counter off to the side and out of the way of dinner prep. “Hawthorne, Mitchell and I took some time to look around earlier while Pollux hacked into the security console,” The older man starts, his eyes ghosting proudly over to Pollux who grins sheepishly. “We have a confirmed floor plan for our exit routes.”

The map is spread out before us on the counter, the lines creasing the paper smoothed with steady hands. I watch as Katniss lifts herself onto her knees on the stool, reaching her body forward to get an overhead view of the place.

“Is it the same pattern on each floor?” She asks, running her fingers along what appear to be hallways.

“Yes – it looks that way. The doors are in different locations, but they all seem to move inwards towards the spiral staircase in the center of the house,” He moves his fingers along the paper until it stops in the center. “Unless we find another way out, the house unravels on the upper floors like a tower. We’ll have to shoot our way out at the bottom.”

I look around at the faces that surround me: Mitchell, Pollux, Lily, Aurelius, Boggs and Katniss. Gale is still by the door, waiting and watching. We’re all in the snake pit, the most dangerous place to be, with no good way out.

“What if we climbed out a window?” Lily pipes in, speaking for the first time since arriving here. My eyes flicker between her and Katniss whose back immediately goes up at the suggestion from her mother. Thankfully, Aurelius interrupts and seconds her idea, turning towards Boggs with his ‘doctor’ stare.

“It might work. It’d have to be a low window – no more than two storeys high.”

“We could tie sheets together, to repel down?” Katniss adds, looking across to me. My mind flashes to her hip and the way she’s been acting the last few hours. I don’t want her climbing anywhere, but the idea of walking into a gun fight is even less appealing.

“Alright, so. We all dress as servants. Mitchell and Pollux roll the dinner carts into the master suite with Katniss on board. Once inside, Gale and I arrive ready escort Katniss after Snow is down. We follow this corridor,” Boggs runs his finger along the map as he speaks, calmly illustrating our escape route. “And then circle down until we’re here, the third floor. That’s where Peeta, Lily and Aurelius will be, preparing the ladder. How does that sound?”

I nod even though the idea of leaving Katniss undefended makes me feel nauseous. I have to believe that Gale and Boggs know what they’re doing – I have to trust it that the plan will work. All around the table people agree, quiet signs of resignation to our possible fate.

With the plan locked in place, we focus on the details, the floor plan, and every other small thing that we can think of. The Avox surrounding us provide us with a small portion of food, communicating with hand gestures to Pollux who nods mutely in return.

When our supper is finished and everything is packed and ready to go, I look towards Gale who still frowns expectantly at the door. Trying not to draw attention, I join him and watch as Katniss begins to crawl into the dinner cart that Pollux will be pushing.

“She’ll be fine, she’s the best Capitol citizen we have,” I murmur to him out of the corner of my mouth. I catch his scowl and nod, trying not to laugh at the idea that he thinks he can hide this.

“Aren’t you worried that she’s going to face off against the deadliest man in Panem?” Gale croaks soberingly. I nod tightly and look at him head on.

“I’ve never been more terrified. But he’s not as strong as he wants people to think – Katniss understands his weakness. She’ll take him down.” I assure myself more with every word I speak.

“I know. Just, why does she have to do it?” Cringing inwardly, I leave Gale’s side and hurry over to Katniss, grabbing her tightly in my arms before she fully wraps herself into the tight frame of the cart.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Everdeen,” I scold, my lips brushing against her forehead before I pull back.

“I won’t,” she whispers and I can hear the small note of fear in her voice. Without thinking, I pull her into a kiss and pour every ounce of love I have into it.

“Come back to me – promise?” She nods just as the bell announcing dinner time echoes in the kitchen. Katniss pulls back, tucking herself in with her gun on her lap, as the door to her cart is closed. I try not to remember the wince on her face or the solid way that her back had been ramrod straight, even in the cart.

“Are we ready?” Boggs asks the group. When I look around, we’re all dressed in appropriate servant wear with our guns tucked in our belts.

This is it. This is how we’re going to do it. I try to swallow the terror.


	24. Chapter 24

Our arrival into the room where we'll build our ladder is less than glorious, thank god. We're led to the space without a hitch and without even once coming into contact with another individual in the house. It could be due to the fact that we took a maze of side tunnels that didn't appear on the map, but I try not to think about the endless ways these tunnels can be used against us.

Once in the room, Aurelius, Lily, and I set to work pulling the sheets from every corner of the room. The team of Avox who have been steadily assisting us since our arrival have been stock piling the clean sheets into the room since our plan was laid out. I can't spare a thought to what will happen to them when it all comes to a head. I have to focus.

The task is simple: Build a makeshift ladder that will get us close enough to the ground that's stable enough to hold multiple people at the same time. And do it in twenty minutes, the expected arrival time of the rest of the group, should 'dinner' go smoothly.

"Thank you," I say as our Avox lead disappears through the doorway. He doesn't stick around, instead vanishing out of the room without a sound. Turning to face Aurelius, I grin hesitantly and pick up a sheet. "Shall we then?"

Immediately, we set to work, each of us stringing together six foot long sheets with standard knots. I'm already through attaching four sheets together when Lily joins her rope with mine and it doubles in size. We've already been here ten minutes.

Five minutes later, Aurelius is tying his piece onto ours and we are pulling at both ends to test the tightness of the line. Nothing seems to come loose and I'm finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. We have five minutes left.

As I look around the room, I finally pull in the details. It's a big space, but not as overwhelmingly large as most other rooms in the house. To the right is a four poster bed that features a comforter designed with endless roses. The walls around us are a dark oak, solid and ominous, betraying the trinkets and decorations that tell of this being a young child's room. Slowly, remembering something from long ago, I stare at Lily as my face pales.

"Lily," I croak, clearing my throat as she turns away from securing the sheet into the window frame.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" Aurelius prompts, seeing our exchange and stepping towards me from his place holding the sheet. If not for Lily's tight grip the sheet would be billowing onto the street by now. "Are you about to have an episode?" He asks, and lifts his hands as though offering peace.

Quickly, I shake my head and clear my throat again. "Snow," I rasp, moving my hand in a wide arc, trying desperately to spit out the words that are on the tip of my tongue. I can feel my body thrumming with nervous anxiety. "He has a granddaughter, doesn't he?"

The room is silent for a moment as my words sink in. I can't stop the flood of images of the little girl from my memories arriving in the room at any moment, discovering us and forcing our hand. I don't know what we'd do. I don't want to think about it.

"She's probably at dinner," Lily whispers. My eyes fall to where her knuckles have gone white around the grip she has on the sheet.

"The dinner though," Aurelius adds and I cringe.

I can't. No. I can't think about any more children dying. Without a thought, my feet are carrying me to where Lily stands and I pull the sheet tighter against the iron rod that hangs above the window.

"She won't be-" I grunt, pulling the sheets tight, " - back until after dinner." I finish and step back. I'm heaving breath, likely not just from the exertion but from the panic that's slowly starting to settle in my bones. I check the time, fidgeting with my fingers.

They're late.

It's still too quiet.

"Come on, come on," I hear Aurelius mutter as he starts to pace the room. With every second that passes, our ears are perked, ready for the oncoming assault. I want to pace but I don't, instead staying rooted to my place near the window, ready at any moment to swing someone out the window and down the ladder to safety.

That's when we hear it; small feet moving quickly towards the door, a little giggle and a snort outside the door. We all freeze, staring and waiting for Snow's granddaughter to enter the room.

I can't kill her. I can't.

"Shh! We have to be quiet!" Delly's voice breaks through the doorway just as her blond hair backs into the space. Attached to her is Andres, his hands climbing up her shirt and his mind distracted by my best friend who's currently leading him into the room.

It happens in a second, too fast for me to even process the sight of Delly pulling a gun from her waistband and pulling the trigger on Andres' temple. The man's body crumples to the floor, blood pooling quickly along the wooden baseboards. She doesn't turn to face us as I watch her shoulders fall and her feet step backwards carefully. Not a word is spoken as Andres bleeds to death before us, a gunshot to the head.

"He said he used to keep the Victor's appointment books," Delly whispers, still not facing us. Whether it's true or not, the words chill me to the bone. Andres knew that Snow was abusing the Victors. He knew and did nothing to stop it.

"It's okay Dell," I state, stepping forward and grabbing her arm to pull her back from the stain of blood that's beginning to coat her shoes. Lily runs and closes the door quietly, sidestepping the body as I take Delly's arm in my grip, the tension invading her apparent. When we're far enough away, I pull her close and tuck her head into my neck, desperately trying to dispel the feeling that must be coursing through her blood right now.

And on we wait. Ten minutes later, there's still no sight of the others. Nor are there any sounds coming from beyond the door. Nobody wants to say it, but we're all wondering what comes next. Surely Snow's granddaughter will return to her room as some point tonight, and then what happens?

I lose track of how much time passes before I hear heavy boots in the corridor, moving quickly down the hallway. They pass without stopping.

In another moment, boots have returned and the door is swinging open, the black dressed bodies entering the room frantically, two men carrying a third body between them. My heart stops in my chest, recognizing the frames of Boggs and Gale.

"Get to the window!" Boggs shouts, pulling the body into his grip as Gale turns to face the rest of the room. His eyes settle on Delly, still in my embrace, for only a moment before something lifts from his troubled gaze.

Behind me, Aurelius is checking the knots one more time before he tosses the rope ladder over the edge and down the window.

"Where is everyone?" I ask, recognizing the unconscious form of Mitchell in Boggs' grip. There's blood trailing from his body. "Where's Katniss?" The panic starts to edge into my voice, clouding my vision and making my arms squeeze tighter around Delly's prone frame in my arms. "Where is she?" I shout as Gale tries to pry Delly loose to lead her down the window.

"She's coming with Pollux," Gale answers carefully as Delly steps backwards from me. Her eyes look sad as they look upon mine and my chest tightens. No no no no.

"Time to go everyone!" Boggs shouts, he's somehow managed to wrap Mitchell's body up against his and he's now leaning out the window, his hands clasped to the rope ladder.

"We can't leave without her!" I scream. I back away from the window and turn towards the door, ready to run and find her, when Aurelius grabs my arm.

"Peeta, it's time to go!" He shouts, pulling me towards the window where Gale is helping Delly climb through the frame. I swing him loose and shake my head desperately. I can't leave her here. No. I'd rather die with her here.

"Peeta, I promise you, she's coming, now get your ass out this fucking window!" Gale shouts, coming from behind and pushing me towards the frame. I resist with every last inch of my body, my feet dragging on the floor and my fingers gripping the window frame. But Gale is stronger and he forces another sheet around me, strapping me onto the rope as he pulls himself outside the building to join me. From the window I see Lily and Aurelius watching Gale push me downwards as my arms remain strapped to my sides by the sheet.

"No! Stop! Katniss!" I scream as I feel my nails bite into my skin. Gale is yelling at me to shut up and overhead I see Lily draw back into the room just as Aurelius slumps against the sill. Overhead, a scream rips loose and a range of gunshots echo out the window. I feel like the sound is following us down as Gale begins to descend quicker. The feeling of suffocation begins to overwhelm me as I struggle to keep it together.

"Look out!" Below me I hear Boggs shout and when I look up I'm not met with the familiar faces of Lily and Aurelius, but instead of Aurelius' limp form, falling from the window and picking up speed. From my strapped position, I cannot escape the impact of his foot to my chest as he falls, dead, to the ground below me.

"We need to drop!" Gale exclaims, turning until he's got the rope wrapped around his torso as he somehow pulls at the knot binding me. I feel my body shake free and suddenly I'm free falling and watching as above me Lily leans out the window.

For a moment, just one moment, I think she's smiling at me. That everything is alright because this kind woman who cared for me is still watching over me.

But then the blood drips from her lips and I see the blank look in her distant eyes.

Lily Everdeen is dead. Dr Aurelius is dead. Katniss. Katniss is...

The thump of the ground below me freezes my body into shock. I sputter for breath, grasping at my chest frantically and trying to sit up as Boggs rolls me onto my side. I'm not given time to rest as I'm pulled to my feet and pushed forward after Gale who's limping alongside Delly while Boggs carries Mitchell's still dripping body. I want to vomit. I want to die. I want to go find Katniss.

Together we all stumble along the grass, heading north towards the maze garden that was set to be our escape. Behind us from the windows of the house we can just barely discern the sounds of screams and gunshots, quickly firing in every direction. The sound that swiftly becomes the most chilling is that of the Avox, easily distinguishable by their tongue-less wail.

"Katniss – I need to go save Katniss!" I shout just as we're about to enter the edge of the maze. Delly and Gale come along beside me, dragging me forward until I'm behind the closest bush and then binding my hands together at my waist. I want to scream but they've wedged something between my teeth, something cloth and heavy, something damp.

"Shut up!" Gale and Delly both shout, and pull me along with them as we move through the maze knowingly. As I'm propelled forward, I spend half of my time with my neck turned, watching behind me desperately as the mansion fades into the distance. With every step, I feel the electricity of Katniss' very existence in my soul dissipating. My breath begins to stutter in my chest and I realize that the cool breeze on my face is due to the wind brushing up against my tear soaked skin.

I'm barely standing when we breach the edge of the maze on the far side of the house. Somewhere along the way, Boggs has given up on saving Mitchell and has laid him out on the ground. I watch, paralyzed as Boggs runs his fingers over the other man's eyelids and closes them for the last time.

If my mouth weren't still full of cloth I would let out an ungodly sound. Too much loss. Too much death. Was it worth the cost? Was it ever worth the cost?

Time seems to muddle past as we're lead forward, back into the city by Delly who skirts us into a shop off the main road and into a closet in the back. I watch as her hands find a hitch and open the closet back that opens into a tunnel.

To pass through the crowds they'd removed the bloody cloth that had filled my mouth, telling me to keep quiet if we were to get out of here alive. I'd agreed, too much in shock to do anything else but follow. But now as we stare down an empty walkway I know that I can't follow them any further.

"I need Katniss," I breathe, stepping back towards the closet door as the others begin to head down the hallway. Gale turns to me abruptly, his eyes burning.

"Do you honestly think I would leave her there?" He whispers fiercely, yanking on my arm and forcing me to stumble forward. When I've regained my feet I waste no time in finding his chest with my hands and finally pushing back, forcing him to stagger backwards.

"Don't fuck with me!" I scream at him, disregarding the shop and the possible Capitol citizens who can likely hear me on the other side. "I can't leave without her," I shout. The numbing reaction to my panic is disappearing and I'm regaining a rage that I haven't known in years.

In an instant, all of the memories and moments of my mother's beatings, all of my brothers' cruel words, the Games, everything, comes crashing back into my mind. They roar to life behind my eyelids and I have to lean against the wall as they flood through my system, carrying the rage into my blood which pulses through my heart. And then comes Katniss: her rare smile, her light laugh, the way her lips turn with a scowl. The very memory of her floats through me and everything is calmer.

Carefully, I turn to who remains of my group and rub my face. "I need her," I whisper, desperation lining my words with every sound. And I do need her, more than breathing. More than life itself. She is my life.

"Peeta," Delly grins and I want to fight her.

"Delly, don't," I urge quietly, begging her to not try to talk me down from this. I need to go back. I need to find her. Spinning on my foot, I turn to the door that was once closed tightly behind me, only to be stopped dead in my tracks.

Pollux stands, his arms wrapped around a small frame, supporting it while he leans heavily against the wall as the light washes over him. My heart thuds against my ribs as I look into his eyes.

"Is she...?" Gale asks from behind me. I feel his hand on my shoulder, clenching it tightly as though this moment is just as difficult for him as it is for me. Pollux nods and I rush forward, unsure of whether it's good news or bad.

I'm at her feet and pulling her down into my arms without a second thought as I press her mouth against my neck and remain hyper-aware of the way her breath cascades against my skin. Above us, Pollux closes the door to the closet and sinks down against it, staring at me as I wrap myself tightly around Katniss' limp form.

She's alive. She's here. She's alive.

Slowly, I rock us back and forth, trying to settle the way my heart ripples in my chest. I know I'm crying. I don't care. Beyond us, Gale is holding tightly to Delly as they both watch us.

"Katniss," I whisper quietly, repeatedly. I don't know how much time passes between when I grabbed her and when she finally begins to stir, waking ever so slightly in my arms. Without haste, I press my lips to her forehead, to her cheek, to her lips, drawing her closer until not an inch separates us. "I was so worried, so fucking worried," I murmur.

When she looks up at me, I'm not expecting the confusion or the slight fear in her voice. I'm not expecting it at all.

"Who are you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I could apologize enough for leaving you all for so long on that cliffhanger. I am sorry for that, really. I promise it'll be better now that I'm home. In all honesty, the last few weeks of my life have been... atrocious. I mean, I left the country for a week (which was good) but then when I came back my car was getting mandatory testing (for the government) that it failed, and was going to cost money. Which yeah, okay, I'll pay it. But then someone smashed in the front window and the bill became higher than the worth of the car. So my personal life fell apart, I ran to the other side of the continent, and then came back only to lose my car to some stupid asshole. Life's hard.
> 
> I really am sorry though, for not updating sooner, I hope you haven't given up on this story, it's almost finished.


	25. Chapter 25

I stare at her, my mouth agape as she blinks calmly at me.

This must be a joke. It isn't real. It can't be.

"Everdeen, snap out of it," Boggs grunts from behind. I don't even bother to look at him, instead, closing my eyes and pulling in a rattling breath.

All eyes are on me now.

"What happened?" My words are barely audible, cresting lightly and echoing in the room. Over her shoulder Pollux gestures widely, his arms moving as though tossing something that explodes. The frown settles in before I can stop it.

"Something exploded? But she doesn't have any wounds!" I shout, looking her over again for any note that I've missed something. I come up empty as my eyes once again meet hers. She looks like a frightened child who would shy away from all of us if not for my arms wrapped around her waist.

Out of the corner of my eye, Pollux moves again, shaking his head wildly 'no' and gesturing again.  This time his fingers flutter and float towards his nostrils until he sniffs audibly and coughs.

"Gas?" Delly gasps, and hurtles herself to the floor before Katniss. Taking up her hands quickly, the blond girl kneels in front of her face and breathes deeply. "You are Katniss Everdeen. You are seventeen years old. You have a younger sister, Primrose Everdeen who you love more than your own life. You survived the Hunger Games, twice. You love this man, Peeta Mellark-"

Her words ramble on and I stare at her bewildered.

"What are you doing?" I ask, interrupting Delly's recount of the last few months. Delly shoots me a look, glaring at Boggs over my shoulder.

"Come on Mellark, give her some space," Boggs insists, pulling my shoulder backwards. When did he get so close?

"No!" I shout and reach for Katniss' hand, pulling it from Delly's. "I'm not leaving her! What are you doing?" I ask again, fighting against the grip that's pulling me back.

"She's restoring her memory, Peeta. If she doesn't do it right now, Katniss could lose everything. Now get back!" Boggs pulls me once again and puts a few feet between myself and Katniss. I have no choice but to watch helplessly as Delly recalls everything that she knows about us. I can't help but think that's it's not enough. It'll never be enough. Even I don't know enough.

:::

It's forty minutes before Delly pauses, looking up at me with a look I can't decipher.

"We need to move, we've been here too long," she states carefully, watching me for some reaction. All I can do is nod, too exhausted to do anything else. "How about you take her? Tell her about whatever you remember. Just keep her awake. Anything you tell her she'll remember and it'll pull out any memories she has. The gas, if it's the same stuff I know, works to eliminate memories while the victim is awake - falling asleep gives them time to be completely wiped. The more we tell her while she's awake, the better her memory will be after she wakes up tomorrow," Delly pauses, allowing the information that she's just told me to sink in as she grabs my hand. "Do you understand, Peeta?"

"Yes," My voice is weak and I have to swallow the lump in my throat.

I can't lose her now. Not after everything.

And so we stand, Gale on one side while I bracket her on the other. It takes us a moment to get oriented, but then we're off, weaving through the tunnels that will hopefully lead us out of this hell.

After an hour I'm looping back on myself, restating what I remember which is still limited at best since my torture.

"When you were fourteen, Katniss," I pause, stopping to catch my breath as she sags against us. "I baked a cake for your first Reaping. I remember thinking that when you showed up at our door with Gale that morning, I'd never seen you look more terrified. You'd joked that your name was in the bowl more than there were Merchant kids in the District. I wasn't supposed to hear it, but I did. And I made you a cake because I thought that if you made it, you deserved it for everything that you've sacrificed. But I never gave it to you because my mother sold it to the florist for their Reaping celebration and you'd disappeared too quickly afterwards anyways."

"We went to the forest and pulled in that buck you shot that morning, right Katnip?" Gale added softly. I realized then that he remembered so much and we weren't using it.

"Keep going," I urged quietly, meeting his gaze head on as we moved forward again.

We walked together for another hour as Gale recounted all the years that I had no part of. He laughed when he recalled Katniss' mission to get Lady pregnant, and the way she'd had no idea how to barter. With every story, I found myself loving her more and more while gaining a new found appreciation for Gale and how he'd kept her together, kept her alive, for so long after her father died.

Gale was just starting to round out the story of her first brush with Peacekeepers and poaching when we rounded the last corner and found ourselves breathing in fresh forest air.

"The hovercraft will be here at dusk," Delly whispers, stepping onto the grass hesitantly. When nothing bursts out to harm us, we all follow suit into the open air.

 

 

 

Back in District 13 I paced. Katniss had slept the whole way home, not waking even to eat or use the washroom. It had been a long ride home, silent and tense. Nobody was willing to think about the deaths of Aurelius or Lily.

Lily. We hadn't even told Katniss about this. We couldn't bear it. I know they'd left that up to me, to tell her one day if she asked. But the consensus, although not mentioned, was that perhaps she was just better maybe not knowing.

It made my gut rot. Sure, there had been tension between them that didn’t seem to ever let up. Not to mention the way that Lily had shut off when her husband had died which had forced Katniss to be the parent. But still, it felt wrong not to include the memory of her mother in her recall. Like too much could be disposed of without it. Especially now that we were back and Prim was being summoned to our medical room.

That was something that I didn’t know how to deal with. What would I say to her? What _could_ I say?

After arriving back in the loading bay, not many questions had been asked. They didn’t yet seem to know if Snow had been killed or not – hell, we weren’t too sure either at this point. But I’d seen Coin standing off to the side as I disembarked, her scowl betraying her usual cool demeanor and I knew something more than just my reappearance was going on. The only thing holding me back from leaping at her had been Boggs’ hand wrapped around my wrist and the fact that Katniss was quickly being taken to the medical ward. We’d all headed our own ways at that point; Gale and Delly to find Prim, Boggs to Command, and Pollux to find his partner, Cressida.

On and on I paced, waiting for someone, anyone to show up and break this pattern of the steady clicking machines. I felt like I was slowly going crazy, waiting for a dam to break and the water to flood in and suffocate me. Waiting for Coin to show up and kill us both. Waiting for Prim to forsake Katniss. Waiting for Katniss to wake up and forsake _me_. Though I was waiting for it, the knock on the door still startled me.

“Come in?” The door swung open at my words and Haymitch stumbled in, flask clasped tightly in his palm.

“You _bastard_ ,” He coughed, slinging the flask to the ground and stepping menacingly towards me. I flinched, unsure of what he was about to do when he stalked forward and forced his palm against my chest. But it wasn’t me he was after. In another second he was leaning over Katniss’ bedside, his body shaking with rage as his hand was raised to her face. I leapt at him, grabbing his hand mid-air and staring wide eyed.

When his gaze met mine, I recoiled. The man was _distraught_. His eyes were red and there were tears on his cheeks. My hand slipped from his and he turned back to the bed, lifting his fingers to brush across Katniss’ forehead so gently I didn’t think he had it in him.

“She’s going to be fine,” I murmur as he stroked the wisps of hair back from her face. I wasn’t sure what was causing this but it shook me to have Haymitch fall apart. _He_ was the parent in this weird thing we called a family and he didn’t ever break down.

“I know kid, I know,” He replies, all the anger gone from his tone.

It was a long while before he spoke again, finally turning to me while his hands remained gripped on the metal of the bed.

“She wasn’t supposed to go,” He states evenly. I don’t interrupt, letting him continue. “We knew something was up, that Coin was trying to finish her. She’s been getting tests for whatever’s wrong with her. But she went on the mission anyways. We got the report while you were in air that three of you didn’t make it but they didn’t specify who. I thought for sure it was you two.”

I take a step back from him, leaning against the wall and watching Katniss as she continues to sleep on the bed behind him. She was getting tests? It wasn’t just her hip? She wasn’t supposed to go on the rescue mission? The realizations are baffling and I try to pull it all together.

“What was wrong with her?” I ask carefully, trying to get the information that nobody seems willing to tell me. Haymitch watches me with wary eyes and then frowns.

“We think it might be arsenic.”

I balk. I want to vomit. I know what arsenic is. We used to keep it around the bakery to keep the rat population under control near the dumpsters.

“Is she alright? Is she… Is it…?” I don’t want to say the name. Not here. But he knows who I’m talking about. He has to.

He nods.

“Now that we think we know what it is, we just need to try the treatment. Her mother was going to run the process but now,” He stops short and pulls in a breath, his hand reaching to rub his scruff roughly. Lily Everdeen is dead. “I don’t trust anyone else to do it.” He finishes and turns back to where she rests behind him.

The room is silent for awhile; the only sound in addition to the machines is our breathing as we both settle down to wait her out.

About an hour later we’re pulled from our silence by Prim, running through the door and crashing past Haymitch towards Katniss’ bed side. Gale and Delly follow soon after, meeting my gaze and holding it for a moment. I can see it in Gale first – he’s told Prim about her mother. My chest tightens as I look towards the little girl who’s curling up into the bed next to her sister, the tears coating her cheeks rubbing off on the sheets.

“She knew, Peeta,” Delly states quietly, taking my hand with her free one. I can’t help but notice she’s gripping Gale’s with her other.

“It’s better this way.” I state, nodding. Thankful that I won’t have to be the bearer of that news.

And then it comes to me – Prim. Prim knows medical stuff. Prim can help us with the poisoning. Prim.

Stepping forward, I grab Haymitch’s arm and pull him into the hallway. “Prim can do it – she has to. We trust her, right? She’ll do it, whatever needs to be done.”

Haymitch nods, taking my arm and moving me back to the room. “How about we get past this hurdle first,” He reminds and closes the door once we’re both back in the room.

The wait continues.

 

 

 

It’s been a whole day.

Prim asked us all to leave while she cleaned her sister up at one point. I stayed, refusing to leave and helping to hold her in place while we bathed her of the mission’s remnants. If it were any other time, I’d want her to be awake, but I know that right now she’d only be embarrassed by me being here. I try to keep my eyes averted anyways, just in case.

When we’re done and she’s back in bed, Finnick arrives, cane in his belt and a plate of food clutched in his hands.

“When she wakes up, we’re leaving.” He sounds so sure. He’ll keep his promise. He will.

“When she wakes up,” I agree. We settle down to eat while she lays motionless still.

 

 

 

It’s the middle of the night when she finally stirs, her body moving ever so slightly as she pulls back to life. Prim notices first, still wrapped up against her sister. When it happens, she shoots up and her eyes find mine in the darkness. I’m by their side in an instant, my fingers brushing against Katniss’ cheek softly. In the corner, Haymitch, the only one left, waits silently.

“Hey, hey,” Prim coos, having left the bed and is now standing face level with her sister. Slowly, Katniss’ eyes open and she stares blankly for just a moment. In that second my worst fears feel confirmed. And then she blinks. And smiles. “Welcome back,” Prim adds quietly.

“That was very stupid of me,” She jokes and coughs, her voice rough from lack of use. My hands find hers and grip tightly, drawing her eyes to meet with mine. For another moment, they look unsure, careful. I’m terrified. “Peeta?” She rasps.

I want to pull her close. I want to curl up next to her.

“We’re safe now,” I state clearly, hoping she remembers what it was all for. She nods slowly, digesting the news.

“Everything is fuzzy,” She whispers then, looking between Prim and I, searching us for something that we don’t have. “I don’t think I remember everything. What happened?”

“It’s some kind of drug. Delly can tell you everything when you see her.” I reply. Without really thinking about it, I’ve pulled her hand to my face and hold her cool fingers against my cheek. The tension I’ve been building in my chest seems to lessen at the contact. Her small smile appears and I remember when I’d first come here, to District 13, when all I’d wanted was to see her smile through the window to my room. “Finnick is going to take us away from here.” I promise. Her eyes flicker to Prim and I nod slowly, indicating that yes, she’ll be with us.

We’re a package deal. We’re a family. Even if not by blood, Katniss, Prim, and Haymitch, are my family.

“Still kicking there, Sweetheart?” Haymitch grunts from behind me, finally stepping forward out of the shadows. I watch as Katniss rolls her eyes and looks at him.

“More alive than I’ve ever been, old man,” She jokes and moves to sit up. It takes a lot of effort, but she refuses the help we offer and finally comes to rest against the pillows of her bed. When she looks at me again, her smile has grown and I know in that instant that something has for once gone right. “I think we did it.”

Haymitch is breathing down my neck now, staring at us and Prim.

“Did what, Sweetheart?”

“He was unconscious and bleeding when I was knocked out. I know I shouldn’t be happy – I put a bullet through a man’s chest – but I am. I am so happy. I think he’s dead. I think he’s dead!” Her words pick up in pitch and border on frantic as she repeats the phrasing, each time getting louder. None of us say a word, recognizing the delirious way she’s almost _chanting_.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy. I am. But the way she’s reacting is unnerving. Almost like she’s about to crack. I can’t let her. Without thinking, I crawl into the bed next to her and pull her close, tucking her against my chest and holding my hand against her collarbone.

“Katniss, breathe with me, okay?” I beg, pushing her back against my chest and breathing deep. If nothing else, I’ll stop her from this bordering panic attack that’s clawing its way out of her.

Together we seem to work it through as Haymitch and Prim watch on, not quite sure of what to do. It doesn’t take long before her breathing is calmer and she’s shaking slightly. I don’t let go.

“Shh, it’s done. We’re safe,” I don’t say it, but we’re only partially safe. We need to get out of District 13 still. But we’ll think of that tomorrow. For tonight, we’ll all stay in this room and watch over each other. That’s what we’ll do.


	26. Chapter 26

Morning comes with a burst of noise, ripping us from where we sleep. My eyes blink open as Prim grips my wrist in her small hand. Looking around, I watch as Haymitch moves from his chair and stands before the door, watching it with tense shoulders. The sound of screaming and yelling comes again and the hallway flashes with light.

“What’s happening?” Katniss hisses, lurching forward until her feet are hanging off the bed. Before she can get too far, I’ve wrapped an arm around her waist and I’m pulling her back towards the bed where I’m struggling to get standing.

“Haymitch?” Prim’s small voice calls out and the old man turns slightly. His gaze catches mine over his shoulder and he shrugs listlessly.

“Don’t know.” He shouts just as another shriek and a small pop echo. I can feel Katniss twitch at the sound as we all struggle to listen. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like an angry mob, though I doubt we’d get too many people against us. After a few moments have passed, the yells become cheers and the shrieks turn into excited chatter. We can hear the people coming now as though in a horde moving towards us. I feel Prim at my back, her hand tight on my shoulder as we all watch the door. Beyond it, we see the shadows.

I stop breathing just as the loud speaker in the room hums to life.

“Alert: Commander notice.” The blank tone rings out around the room and we hear the sounds in the hallway hush to silence. Everyone in the room seems to suck in a breath at once, waiting for what’s next.

“Citizens of District 13,” Coin’s shrill voice fills my head as the speakers crackle. “It is with great pleasure that I inform you that a recent mission to the Capitol by District 13 military personnel has been successful. We can now confirm that President Snow, long-standing enabler of the Hunger Games, has been killed in battle. Though the war is not yet over, we have claimed a major victory.”

We barely hear the end of her speech before the people in the hallway drown it out with their cheers. Beyond our door, people celebrate as we stay rooted to our spots, frozen.

“He really is dead,” Katniss whispers as her hand grips mine.

“Yes. He is.” I reply. Haymitch turns from the doorway just as some nurses spill in, their grins splitting wide on their faces.

“They got him!” They shout, seemingly unaware that it was this girl, small and fragile, standing before them that actually took down their worst nightmare. One nurse leaps forward, a native of District 13, and grabs Katniss by the shoulders, her eyes bright with excitement. “We won!” She shouts and I feel Katniss shaking like a leaf under the woman’s gaze. Carefully, I step between them and take Katniss around the shoulders, guiding her out into the hallway. Prim is at my side in an instant, with Haymitch quick on our heels.

We move quickly, our feet carrying us down the hallway and through the throngs of people that cheer and yell in extreme joy at the death of the President. Every so often, someone will grab us up, recognizing the Mockingjay, and scream at us in their excitement. Each time Prim’s fingers dig into mine and Katniss slides closer, desperately avoiding this sheer hysteria that has overtaken the District.

We’re halfway to Haymitch’s unit when we catch sight of Finnick and Annie running towards us. They’ve smiles on their faces though they’re strained.

“What now?” I ask, coming up with both Everdeen’s attached to my hands and Haymitch huffing behind me.

“We need to go. Sooner rather than later.” Finnick responds tightly and Annie nods beside him.

“Where? When?” I try to suppress the panic building from the idea of leaving District 13. This is the only ‘home’ I know apart from the fragmented memories of my past.

“Get your things. Get whatever you can. We meet in two hours are the surface elevator – remember?” I nod and Finnick slips by us with Annie it tow.

We don’t waste any more time moving down the hallways to Haymitch’s unit.

“Peeta!” It takes me a moment to clue into Prim’s voice over the roaring in my head but when I do, my eyes find hers and her wet cheeks and I slow to a stop, sinking down before her and pulling a dazed Katniss with me. “We need to get mom’s stuff,” Prim stutters in between quiet sobs. In the corner of my eye, I see Katniss slowly look towards me.

“Can we, Peeta?” Prim’s voice is quiet, asking for permission. I stare at her for a moment, torn.

“I’ll take her,” Haymitch interrupts, startling me back into action.

“Go; meet us in the unit as soon as you can.” I get back to my feet and pull Katniss along with me. All I can feel is the sweat on her palm and the strong way her fingers are clenching around mine. When we finally get to the unit, she pulls loose and turns on me, staring me down.

“Tell me.” She growls. I pause, contemplating my words. We hadn’t told her anything about her mother. We should have, I knew that. “Peeta. What happened?”

“She died. In the Capitol.” Her face pales and she leans against the wall for a moment, stepping back from my outstretched arms and holding up her hand to me.

“I’m okay – just give me a minute.”

“I’m sorry.” And I am, for more than just not telling her – I’m sorry for everything. For her mother, for her burden, for her injuries, everything.

“Don’t apologize. I know things weren’t good with us – I know that. I’m just surprised.” She doesn’t say anything more for a few minutes as I begin to place things on the bed to be packed.

It isn’t long before she’s standing of her own volition again, pulling items slowly from the drawer before placing them in a bag. Her movements are careful, hesitant, before she turns to me and I catch the frown on her lips.

“Is Prim alright with it?” She whispers.

“As alright as she can be, I guess.” I place a package of first aid supplies in the bag and rest my hands on her shoulders. “She still has you, Katniss.”

“Do we have to go?” Her change in conversation catches me off guard just as Haymitch and Prim burst through the door with a bag of items. Their cheeks are red with movement, their eyes wide as they catch us just standing around.

“Katniss, tell me, is this what you want for us? To stay? To leave? Haymitch? Prim?” I never really asked before, I just assumed we’d all want to leave. But I remember then that this is what they know now and the idea of running off during a war is risky.  It could get us killed. Staying could get us killed. Our options are limited.

“What other choice do we have?” Katniss asks in return and I smile sadly, knowingly, as she looks towards Prim.

The room falls silent after that, apart from our efforts to pack as efficiently as possible. It takes little over an hour for us to condense all of the Everdeen’s items into two packs and all of Haymitch’s into one.

“What about Gale? And Delly?” Katniss interrupts our packing, turning to look at each of us with wide eyes. To be honest, her question catches me by surprise as I realize that I hadn’t even thought of them. I’d only wanted to make sure Katniss was safe – I’d been consumed by it.

“Leave them a note, sweetheart,” Haymitch replies gruffly, stuffing a supply of unmarked pills into one of the pack’s pockets. Katniss nods swiftly, moving to a discarded piece of paper in the trash and finding a pen tucked into one of the drawers. I don’t stand around and watch what she writes, instead checking the bathroom for any remaining useful items.

When it’s done, we wordlessly slip from the room and head towards the kitchens. The doors are locked when we get there but Prim uses her nurse’s code to get us past, sneaking us inside to pack as many canned goods as we can.

Finally, when we arrive at the elevator, I set my heavy pack on the floor and help Katniss pull hers off. We hide them in the corner as we try to inconspicuously wait for Finnick and Annie. It isn’t long before they’re rounding the corner, Finnick with a military pack slung over his shoulder and Annie clutching to a cardboard tube.

“You guys ready?” Finnick rasps, catching his breath after likely his first jog without both working legs. I meet Annie’s eyes and look to her hands. When I look up again, she’s smiling slightly and nodding. The crazy woman is toting around my _art_. I try to stamp down the embarrassment at having that be her item to save from this place.

“Yes.” Prim huffs, dropping the last of our hidden sacks into the center of the circle we’ve inadvertently created. I chance a glance around and take in everyone’s faces. Though they’re more determined than scared, I once again doubt whether this is the best plan. All around us, people are still shouting in the hallways and clamoring with excitement. But our group, morose and drawn, simply looks tired. Tired of fighting, tired of surviving, tired of running.

“Where’s Johanna?” Haymitch asks gruffly, surprising us. It’s not until that moment that I realize she’s missing. That she should be with us too. Finnick sighs loudly and doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

“She wasn’t ready yet,” He mutters. I can see it then, the way his hands clench and his face clouds with frustration. He’d wanted Johanna here too. Haymitch only nods knowingly and shifts on his feet as we all wait for someone to make the next move.

“Let’s go then,” Finnick states quietly and presses his hand to the elevator button. We all listen to the quiet hum and the beep when the doors open to our level. With everyone squished in, nobody makes a sound as we glide to the top. Any second now, the elevator could be stopped. We could be stopped, taken by Coin’s guards and shown to the cells. We could be tortured or killed, all for trying to run.

We’ve become a people too tired of political wills and being pawns in other people’s games to stay and try to fight. We won’t roll over and die, but we refuse to stay and play. The doors open to the surface and it’s Prim who’s the first to step out – Prim, the little girl that started this all, now fearless against the unknown. Soon after, we all spill out of the elevator and then we’re running, moving towards the low fence and then tossing our packs over the wire.

Katniss is first over the line, pulling Annie and then Prim over with her. Haymitch is the next over and shakes off her grip, grumbling more to himself than to us. Finally, Finnick and I clamor our way to the top and slip, our loose feet dropping from the rungs of the chain and forcing us both down to the ground with the air knocked from our lungs. Together we all pause, watching as the elevator door hums closed and the surface of District 13 is left empty.

Nobody comes for us. No guns are raised and no shouts of escape are heard. Finnick and I find our way to our feet and look around at the others, our motley crew of escapees. For a moment, just one second, fear grips me as I realize that we’re now on our own. There is nobody up here to help us. Just us. In the wild. At the tail end of a war.

* * *

We don’t make it five miles before the sun is setting and we have to find shelter. Though Katniss is slow moving, she’s able to give pin point instructions that have us building a shelter and foraging for food in no time. When dusk has past and full night is upon us, we are able to build a small fire and eat a can of the stolen food with the small berries and leaves that we’ve gathered.

As I nibble on the jerky that someone has provided, I make note that my canteen will need filling tomorrow. That we’ll need to fashion weapons, maybe get Katniss a bow, to start hunting if this is going to be an extended trip. It’s then I realize that I have no idea where Finnick is taking us and as I look towards where Prim is curled up against a snoring Haymitch, the fear once again crackles in my chest.

“What’s the plan now?” Katniss asks quietly, her fingers twirling at a long piece of grass as her head rests in my lap. I let my fingers stroke through the wisps of her loose hair, brushing them back from her face as I watch Finnick carefully for answers.

“Well,” Finnick starts, shifting himself so a sleeping Annie can lie fully on the ground at his side. “I want to go home to District 4. I know some good hiding places; there are people there who can help.”

I feel Katniss shift at his words, her body tensing as she listens.

“I know it’s not your home, but District 12 was bombed, Katniss. You can’t go back there. They’ll look for you there first. You know that, we all know that,” He continues. I stay silent as he stares into the fire, his hands slowly working a loose thread in his pants. “Come to 4. You don’t have to stay forever. Just until things have settled down. Then we’ll get you wherever you want to go.”

Looking down at Katniss, my hands never stilling, I watch as a flurry of emotions cross her face. I don’t speak, wouldn’t bother, since I know that I’ll go wherever she goes. I’d follow her until the bitter end if I had to.

“How long do we have to walk?” It’s a whisper, but it makes Finnick whip his head up, his trademark smile beaming across the fire.

“Delly got us some maps a while back – Annie’s been studying them. We think maybe a week, or two, give or take? The District is really big, but once we’re in it, I can get us around faster.” Finnick continues on hopefully, talking through the whole plan with a light in his eye that I think has been missing since the Games.

Later that night, as I lie tucked against Katniss, I listen to the sound of her breathing and the beat of her heart. It’s calm and steady, a small reminder that as long as these sounds keep existing, everything is going to be alright.


	27. Chapter 27

We were lost. There was no way we couldn’t be lost. Nobody wandered through the woods for this long without having no fucking idea where they were going.

And I was starting to think that Finnick Odair was the kind of guy who had no fucking idea where he was going.

Every so often he would wander off to the side and touch a tree or a plant, lifting its leaves and inspecting it as though looking at a bug. When he’d come back to us, he’d crack a smile and lie. He’d say we were coming up from the east. Not too much longer now.

But he’d say that every few days. And those days turned into weeks. And now we’d been wandering through the forests and fields of Panem for nearly a month and still we hadn’t come upon District 4. We look a mess, our clothes dishevelled and torn, our bodies covered in a layer of grime that doesn’t come off in the frequent rain storms. I can at least be glad that we’re heading towards somewhere warm and not up into the oncoming winter months. At least, I remember District 4 being somewhere south – now I’m not too sure.

I was starting to think that maybe it didn’t exist. That maybe the oceans and the sand that I remembered from my fractured mind were all just illusions that the Capitol had put there to confuse me even more. But then there are moments at night, lying next to Katniss, with Prim tucked alongside or between us, where she would talk about the moments we shared in District 4. She’d sound wistful and a little excited. And I’d go back to thinking it existed.

But now as we walk and I see the bones poking from Prim’s small frame I can’t help but doubt that the District exists. That we were all likely to just die in the forest, wandering around until we died.

I kept these thoughts to myself. Instead I pretended to be Finnick’s right hand man. I kept things positive, kept the mood light even though my joints ached as though they had finally started to grind together.

Through it all, Katniss barely spoke. I could see the way her body would shake when she thought we weren’t watching and it troubled me the most – more than the hunger and the exhaustion that were slowly over taking our group.

It was late afternoon, too soon to stop for the night and too soon after our lunch break, that Katniss finally seemed to come loose at the hinges.

Lunch had been sparse, no more than berries and the remainders of some animal someone had killed the night before. We’d only just started up again on our trek, Finnick leading the way with a map and something he called a compass. Annie would follow close behind and Katniss would bring up the rear bracketing Prim, Haymitch and I in the center. It had only been an hour or so when the first signs began to show.

“Katniss?” Prim shouts from ahead of me, her eyes trained on the pathway above. Behind me I hear her sister grunt in reply, the only sound she offers. Prim doesn’t seem to mind, nor does she continue her questioning as she realizes the mood. I do though, quickly turning around and taking in the grey pallor of her face and the frown that tightens her brow.

Slowing down, I join her pace and grab her hand up in mine. She shakes it loose abruptly and scowls at me.  “Are you feeling alright?” I ask quietly so as to not draw attention from the group. Her mood is nothing new – it’s the endless trek that’s gotten to her as well – but there’s a tension here that wasn’t there before.

“I’m fine,” She hisses, her eyes diverted. Sensing that everything isn’t _fine_ I grab her hand again and stop walking, pulling her up short. She doesn’t stop to look at me, but just keeps staring ahead. It strikes me then that something is most definitely not _right_.

“Katniss?” Prim calls again and neither Katniss nor I return her call, too consumed with our silent conversation to notice. My eyes never leave the back of her head as the exhaustion seems to overtake her for a moment and her shoulders slump, her fingers loosening in my grip.

We’re standing there for another moment before the slowly disappearing group stops and Prim turns, calling out for Katniss again. This time we hear it and Katniss’ hand falls away.

“I’m here,” She replies and looks towards me, urging me ahead of her again to complete our group.

We walk for another hour, the forest growing ever closer with vines and leaves and low to the ground bushes. With every step my concerns seem to deepen as I listen for Katniss’ nearly silent gait behind me. It’s not her steps faltering then that catches my attention, but the sharp intake of breath and the sound of flesh scraping on a tree.

I’m back at her side in an instant, my hand wrapping around her waist and standing her upright before any of the others notice. “You’re not alright – what’s wrong?” I ask quietly, keeping the group in my peripheral vision as they trek on ahead. Katniss shifts on her feet and rests her head against my chest for a moment, breathing in deeply before pushing back.

“I’m just tired. Come on, let’s go.” She steps forward again and pulls me with her, my hand in hers.

Together we walk behind the group, every so often calling back at Prim when she calls out to us. It stays like this for a while as the sun begins to slide down in the sky.

When finally it was closer to dusk, we stopped for another night in the forest. Haymitch and Prim went to preparing the camp, Annie to finding water, and Finnick off to check our surroundings for any points of interest. Before I would usually stay around camp to start the fire and prepare food, but tonight there was no way I was going to let Katniss wander off by herself to hunt. Especially not after what had transpired today.

She didn’t even bother to argue, instead simply heading out with her roughly fashioned bow and setting a few snares along the way with the intention of checking them again in the morning. Ten minutes away from the camp, Katniss pulls herself into a tree and stares down at me.

“I’m going to stay here until I catch something. You can go back now.” She doesn’t quite meet my eyes when she says it and I can’t help but frown.

“How about I just sit down right here and wait quietly?” I counter and settle against the tree opposite her. Shaking her head, she looks out over the thick brush before us without responding. I take that as a ‘yes’ and settle in for the long wait.

* * *

It looks like what she shot in the Arena when she pulls it from the underbrush but its snout is somewhat longer and its colouring is different.

That doesn’t matter though because this animal will serve for a substantial dinner for us tonight.

The walk back to the camp is slow, Katniss’ pace not as quick as it usually is. I don’t question it knowing full well that my inquiries are only bothering her more. Instead I walk silently beside her, holding the meat while she cradles her bow. We’re halfway back to the camp when she stops short and turns to me, looking me in the eyes as the dark of the forest seems to close in a little tighter.

“I’m tired, Peeta. I don’t know how much farther I can go.” She stops and looks away, sucking in a tight breath. “I’ve been giving mostly everything to Prim but it’s still not enough, she’s fading away in front of me. I’m hungry and I’m not eating which is making everyone else go hungry because I can’t stand long enough to hunt. I don’t know what I’m doing, if this is even going to get us somewhere safe! I keep thinking maybe it would have been safer to just stay in District 13. To give myself over to Coin so that Prim was okay. I just-“ Her burst of words and the tears that are pooling in her eyes surprise me and all I can think to do to stop the frantic way she’s babbling is to pull her close and press my lips against hers. It’s not gentle or patient or calming – it’s a matching fervor for her words and the way my mind has been struggling with the same thoughts. It’s a panic and a fear-fed kiss, a desperate attempt to inject some feeling of safety into us both.

“I know, I’m sorry it’s like this,” I gasp, resting my forehead against hers as I pull away. I know now why she’s been faltering, why her steps have been uneven and her movements less sure. I know now that I never want to let her go – that I’ll go hungry before her. She’s ill, not fully healed from the poison, and yet still giving more of herself to everyone else. My breathing shakes out of me as I struggle to pull in air, trying to get my racing thoughts under control. I can feel her crying now as her hands grasp my shoulders to keep me close. We stand there together, unspeaking.

It’s not five minutes before we hear a crashing through the forest and we spin, facing in the direction of the noise, ready to strike. Katniss already has her bow drawn and my hands have dropped her kill and instead been filled with the knives I keep at my belt.

“Katniss! Peeta!” Finnick shouts as he breaks through a thicket of vines. My first thought is dread before I see the smile painted on his face and the sweat lining his brow. When he sees us he pulls up short and holds his hands out in front of him as though to stop her arrow mid-shot. “We’re here.” He gasps and his smile grows ever larger.

I don’t believe him. The feelings coursing through my body beg to differ. It seems too good to be true – just as we reach our breaking point, we’ve arrived? It doesn’t feel right. Where’s the ocean that I remember? The towns? The people?

“The railway – it’s a half-mile south. That’s the way in.” Finnick is utterly beaming as he relays the information, bouncing on his feet as Katniss and I stand stunned. It takes me a moment to put my words together.

“I thought the District was on the ocean?” I mutter, bending down to pick up the kill and stepping back in the direction of the camp. Finnick seems to sense my doubt as he flicks his eyes between Katniss and I.

“It is. We have to enter through the north fence. Four is heavily guarded on land-“ He starts as I pass him and head back into the trees. Behind me I don’t hear footsteps follow; instead I feel the burn of eyes on my back.

“How much longer?” Katniss asks quietly. I can hear the rasp in her voice from her earlier tears and my stomach clenches.

“A day. Maybe by tomorrow night we can reach De Soto – it’s the borderland and the first rail station in. Then we can head home. We can be home, Katniss. Safe. All of you, together.” The tightness in my chest doesn’t seem to disappear as I head closer to the camp and away from where Finnick is laying out his plans to Katniss.

I don’t understand why I’m feeling like I’ve just had a fist put into my gut, almost as if I’ve been winded. Ahead of me I see the spark of the fire’s flame burning brightly and the tension eases a bit, my body relaxing slightly. When I break through the last of the trees, Prim launches forward and latches onto me, mumbling about how we’re almost there. I try to keep an upbeat facade but when I look over her head at Haymitch, he simply stares into the fire, too exhausted to even pretend.

“I’ll clean that, Peeta,” Annie says quietly, taking the kill from my hands and starting to work on it as Prim pulls me towards the layer of leaves and vines they’ve laid out for our bed. I watch Haymitch as I go, his gaze never straying from the light of the fire. It’s then I notice that his cheeks are sunken and pale, the hair on his chin overgrown and ragged. He looks lost.

We all look lost. As though this time in the forest has slowly chipped away at us all. I’m not sure why the news isn’t making us all thrilled – we should be – but whether it be from exhaustion, weariness, or a lingering fear, we’re all subdued.

“Peeta, it’s going to be alright. We can start over.” Prim states and holds my hand in hers. At her words, I look at her and take in the thinness of her face. Despite that, her eyes are still bright and hopeful.

“I believe you, Prim.” I reply and wrap my arm around her shoulders, trying to catch the excitement she has at almost being home.

 _Home_.

* * *

Morning comes too soon as the sun rises overhead. I feel its growing heat bearing down on us as I lay against Katniss, her body curled around Prim’s. Around us I hear the soft sound of Haymitch’s snoring and the quiet movements of Finnick as he breaks open the fruit he identified last night to be used for our breakfast.

In all honesty, as I lay here, I feel almost content about the day ahead. For the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe what lay before me isn’t bad. I feel _hopeful_. Like maybe this whole trek, the month we’ve been walking, the years I’ve been fighting against the Capitol, the past that has tortured and nearly killed me – like maybe that is coming to an end.

Running my hand up Katniss’ arm, I brush the hair from her neck and place a gentle kiss behind her ear before slipping away and joining Finnick as he prepares food for everyone.

“It will be better,” Finnick reassures me quietly as I sit down beside him and pull the fruit into my lap to tap into. The man must be able to sense the doubt I have.

“What if we get there and it’s destroyed, like 12?” I ask hesitantly. It’s not my main fear, but it’s certainly one of them. I catch Finnick’s smile out of the corner of my eye.

“I had word up until a week before we left that parts of the District were still standing. It’s not the same as 12 – we’re spread out down here, all along the coast. A lot harder to burn it down. We have friends here – they’ll protect you. Keep you safe.”

“I’m not worried about me, Finnick.” I grumble and split the fruit, nearly spilling it in my haste. The man laughs lightly and hands me another.

“I know you’re not. But they’ll be alright too. There are islands, Peeta, hundreds of them out in the ocean where we can live without anyone ever finding us. I know it seems futile now – we’ve been travelling for so long – but the end is here. And it ends with reward, not punishment.” Handing me a piece of fruit, I look at him then, taking in the dark shadows under his eyes.

This hasn’t been easy on Finnick either – I see that as I look at him now. He’s developed lines he didn’t have before. There’s a scar below his cheekbone from a tree branch he hadn’t expected. The trip has taken its toll on us all.

“What will you and Annie do?” I ask, turning back to my task while shooting a quick glance to where Annie lay facing Prim, their hands clasped together. Even mad Annie has made the trek in one piece, if not a little bumped and bruised.

“Hopefully stay wherever you guys go, if you’ll allow us.” For the first time since I’ve known him, Finnick sounds unsure.

“Of course you can, Finnick. You’ve brought us here. You’ve saved us. You’re... Like family.”

The thing is – when I say it, I don’t sound unsure. In fact, as the words tumble out of my mouth I know that they’re true and that if Finnick and Annie were to go anywhere _but_ near us, I don’t know if I could take it. Throughout the past few weeks, the past few months even, Finnick has been there, helping us. I don’t know why I didn’t feel sure of it before.

“We want you with us Finnick. Both of you.” He nods at my words and together we sit and get things ready for the others before they wake.

* * *

Entering the District is easier than any of us expected. The rails are unprotected, the gates open and abandoned. Finnick doesn’t take it lightly though, urging us to wait along the edge of the forest while he crosses the line himself. When he waves the all clear, we leave the edge of the forest and approach the towering fence line, staring up at it with wide eyes. It’s nowhere near the size of our small fence at home.

“Welcome to District 4.” Finnick boasts and we’re off again, trekking our way along the railway line and heading towards what he knows to be a small village.

We walk for a few hours before we start to see signs of life – small huts and a road crossing the lines. The buildings are all boarded up and empty, a look Finnick refers to as hurricane-appeal. I don’t know what he means but he says it as a joke and Annie laughs, breaking the tensions of walking through a ghost town momentarily.

When we get to the other edge of the village, we hunker down in a small shop that Haymitch breaks into. The action surprises me if only because it’s the most energy I’ve seen out of the man in a long while.

“What?” He barks, catching my eye. I shrug and grab a board to pull it away from the door. Once inside, we’re greeted with a meager kitchen, the shelves lined with canned goods – enough to last us for months. I want to shout my excitement, that we’ve found food and shelter and _somewhere_ but all I can do is stare in awe as Prim rushes to the lowest shelf and pulls out a can of peaches. Her smile is blinding as she turns to us all, thrusting the can up.

Nobody says a word. Not a sound. Before we rush forward like starving animals and grab at things, setting them out on the counter in portions so as to almost build our dinners. Somewhere along the way, Annie begins to laugh and before long we’re all breaking down in one way or another.

Dinner that night is filling though our portions remain small. The opened can of peaches sits in the center of our huddled circle as we all lay on the floor, resting safely for the first time in what seems like forever.

“What next?” Haymitch asks, piping up and showing signs of life unlike his last few weeks.

“We keep moving west. Find a village with people; find a way to the shore. There’s an island not too far away from Victor’s Island. It has a few houses that I’ve heard have been abandoned during the war. My family could get us out there, help us set up.” Haymitch only nods as Finnick lays out the plans. The rest of us sit, Katniss leaning against me and Prim in her lap, Annie resting her head in Finnick’s lap.

Now that our hunger has finally been sated, sleep seems to come quickly for us all.

* * *

We find the rubble of Finnick’s village a day later. The man doesn’t crack as he hobbles from one building to the next, pausing every so often to sift the dirt through his fingers. Annie holds his hand the entire way, her mind drifting in and out of focus. Nobody asks where his family is. Finnick doesn’t question it either. None of it seems to matter as we wander through the remains of people’s homes.

It’s on our fourth day in the District when we finally come upon people. They’re hidden among the trees having built their fortresses in the thick brush to hide from the Capitol’s attacks. The people swarm to Finnick like family to a lost child. When they recognize us, we can’t escape being enveloped by their arms and bodies, every person pulling us close for a hug or handshake. Throughout it all I never stray too far from Katniss or Prim. I remain unwilling to let them get too far for fear that they’ll disappear.

It seems that ever since Lily died in the Capitol and we escaped into the forest, I’ve taken to Prim as though she was my own sister. I’d already once lost Katniss, I couldn’t do it again. And I know that losing Prim would be almost as unbearable. They’re my girls, my family. I don’t know who I’d be without them.

One week after we arrive, we’re huddled into a house on the coast eating a cold dinner of fish and rice when the TV flickers on. None of us move, not even the strangers who have given us access to their home and a good meal.

“Attention citizens,” The sound from the box crackles as the connection fades in and out, the lines damaged from the war yet somehow still active after all this time. “Alert from your President.” The screen goes blank and I look to Katniss across the room who stands clutching her plate to her chest, unmoving. My eyes never leave her face as it grows shocked at the sight before her.

“Citizens of Panem,” Coin’s voice fills the room and I want to close my eyes. I want to imagine I’m somewhere else. But at that moment Katniss meets my gaze and holds it, keeping me afloat. “The war is over. The Capitol has fallen.” She pauses for effect and I nearly jump as I feel a hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly. Haymitch never falters and Katniss never looks away, even as Prim grips her foot.

“The past months of tension, of fighting, of battle, have been hard on us all. The years, though now history, have worn us down with violence and malice and starvation. No District knows this more than my home, District 13. It is with great pleasure then that I announce that with the fall of the Capitol, the future hub of Panem will reside within the safe confines of this steadfast District. The government will relocate here to its rightful place, within the walls that have lasted decades without notice. It is time for District 13 to shine once again, and with that, for Panem to rise up from the ashes and rebuild.

“I address you today as both your President and your fellow citizen. I ask for your help in restoring our lands and restoring unity to our nation. With this in mind, I also request your support as we instate a series of trials for suspected persons involved in endangering Panem citizens unnecessarily.

“With the death of President Coriolanus Snow, our nation has passed an era of conflict. But he was not the only man instigating murder and violence upon all citizens. He was but the watch maker in this scheme and there are still many individuals who must stand trial for their crimes in order for our society to move forward. Please be advised that the following individuals are requested at top priority to report to their nearest established Justice Building for retrieval to District 13. Failure to do so will result in an immediate guilty verdict and a sentence of death.”

My stomach rolls at her words and I feel Haymitch’s fingers biting into my skin as Coin stops to withdraw an envelope filled with documents from her breast pocket. Nobody breathes as she snares the paper with her nail, drawing it open with a brutal speed.

“Abernathy, Haymitch.” I’ll be bruised tomorrow on the shoulder, but I don’t care. I see now what Coin is doing – the ultimate revenge. She’s having the nation come after us. There’s no escape. “Aurelius, Roman. Cardew, Elizabeth. Cresta, Anwyn-“ The inhale of breath and the growing silence of the house around us nearly suffocate us. “Demol, Limey. Everdeen, Katniss. Everdeen, Lily. Flicker-“ My mind stops listening as I pull Katniss into my arms and wrap myself around her. Somewhere her plate shatters and a small moan whimpers out. The room is silent but for the names being read, the slow call for Rory Hawthorne, for Finnick Odair, for Peeta Mellark, for Claudius Templesmith and Effie Trinket. All of us named. All of us dead bodies walking.

I lose track of everything then as another set of arms wrap themselves around us. And then another. And another. We’re covered in bodies sheltering us from the world as Katniss huddles stunned against my body.

“They won’t have you. I won’t allow it. She’s already tried and you’ve survived. You’re safe.” I repeat out loud and in my head for only her to hear. I’ve zoned so far out from the sound of the television that I don’t hear what happens next.

I only hear the shriek that claws its way out of our hostess’s mouth, echoing around the room. The arms remove themselves and then I see it, the nock of the arrow leading to the hole in Coin’s throat. The camera has captured it all as it focuses on the dying woman, catching every second. In the background we hear the shouting break out around the room and the camera swings to catch Gale being detained by guards and Delly clawing at their masks as Johanna swings an axe into a metal box on the wall.

Where she got the axe is all I can wonder as the screen goes black.

The scenes repeat in my head. They keep playing as I look across the room at Haymitch, at Finnick, and then back to Katniss who’s staring wide eyed, unmoving. My arms wrap around her again and without a moment to spare she’s crawling into my lap and pulling her sister against us.

“What does this mean?” Prim squeaks, her voice clouded with tears.

I can’t answer her. I don’t know. All I know is that the woman so intent on killing Katniss, on destroying me, is now dead.

“It means,” Finnick speaks up from across the room as he looks to the owners of the home with a steady gaze. These people who could turn us in at any moment. When I catch the unmistakable nod the man returns to Finnick, I allow myself to exhale. “It means Prim, that we’re safe.”


	28. Chapter 28

We’ve been hiding out for five years now. _Five years_. Not that District 4 hasn’t welcomed us with open arms, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I miss home. I miss _District 12_. And I know Katniss does too. And Haymitch, of course, who’s only stuck around in District 4 with us because of the bounty on his head.

Sure, Coin had been killed by Gale at the end of the war, but apparently that wasn’t enough. With Gale, Delly and Johanna all locked up along with the rest of the District 13 rebels who had opposed our imprisonment, a new faction had been formed. Panem had split again into a side that wanted redemption and a side that sought retribution.

They’d been fighting it out ever since.

And so we’d stayed here, in our little island home, using Finnick’s family as a line to the real world while we hid out. People still offered money for our capture. We couldn’t go anywhere, or be seen anywhere. We were trapped.

But at least we were alive. And it wasn’t so bad here.

We had our first child here. It had happened in the third year, right after Annie had announced her own pregnancy. Katniss had looped her fingers through mine and squeezed until I felt like my own would fall off. She’d turned to me later that night and stated that she thought she _too_ was pregnant. I’d nearly swallowed my tongue – here was this woman I loved telling me she thought she was carrying my child. A child she claimed she never wanted. A child that we’d done so much to prevent. I wouldn’t call him a mistake, but maybe he was a surprise.

 “How do you know? We’ve been so careful Katniss,” I’d whispered to her as my fingers stroked through her loose hair.

“We haven’t though, I just haven’t said anything. Like the other night when you woke me up, we didn’t bother then either...” She trails off and I can hear the smile on her lips as she remembers the times where we lose ourselves in each other in the middle of the night. 

We’d had a little boy that we’d named Finnegan. When I’d suggested the name from my dream, from my near death, I hadn’t given any reason why, but I think Katniss knew. Our boy had been born in the middle of the night in a ramshackle house in District 4 with the sounds of the ocean in the background. Prim had been our saviour, using the skills taught by her mother to assist with the pregnancy. She’d also been elated to become an aunt, almost jumping out of her skin at the chance.

Our family had grown in District 4. But now it was time to stop hiding.

A few weeks ago, the newly stable government operating under Commander Paylor announced that all previously sought criminals would be given pardon based on a redefining of the nation’s laws. The initial announcement had brought about discontent, but Paylor had addressed the issue by offering rebuilding programs and establishment grants. The mumblings had, according to Finnick’s father, stopped after that point.

We’d stuck it out a little bit longer, each day waiting for news of another uprising or a break out of violence as a group tried to capture a criminal - but there was nothing.

For the first time in years, in decades even, it seemed like Panem was experiencing peace.

It had been with this feeling in our hearts and minds then that we decided to travel back to District 12. To see what remained and if we could build a life there. Though Katniss refused to admit it, she longed for the trees of the forest and the ability to teach her son to hunt. I longed to simply follow her anywhere.

We’d held the discussion at dinner one night, inviting Annie and Finnick, Haymitch and Prim, all to our dinner table to announce our plans.

“We’re going back!” Katniss blurted after everyone was seated. Her hand clapped over her lips and her eyebrows shot up her forehead, surprised at her own outburst. We’d planned to announce it slowly, to test the waters first, but she’d gone and just done it.

Finding her hand under the table, I squeezed and smiled at her, letting her know it was okay. “We’re going back to District 12. We think it’s time.” I added quietly, looking around at the shocked faces at our table.

Haymitch was the first one to smile, a small one, but a smile none the less.

“I’m coming too.” He added gruffly and shoved a forkful of fish past his lips. My gaze then moved to Annie and Finnick who were watching each other without speaking. Annie’s face was scrunched up and tight, her expression familiar from one of her bad days.

“Are you sure it’s safe to travel?” Finnick asked, turning to look at us and away from Annie.

“I don’t think it will be safe to travel for a long time,” I replied, meeting his gaze. Katniss cleared her throat beside me.

“I want Finn to see our home.” She stated and her voice only shook a little. We’d wavered on this topic so many times, now that it was actually coming to a head both of us were doubting ourselves.

“I don’t think we can go, not yet.” Finnick’s voice was wistful as he looked back to Annie and smiled slightly, giving her a nod.

“We think... Maybe we’ll have another one.” She whispered urgently and her smile split her face. Beside me, Prim nearly burst with excitement as she twisted in her seat and clapped her hands.

“Oh! This is so exciting!” She shrilled and went to hug Annie and Finnick tightly. The smile that I felt tugging at my lips was a happy one, I was sure of it.

Distracted by the good news and the delicious meal, Katniss and I never did get an answer from Prim. I realized that the moment I pulled the covers over our entwined bodies that Katniss knew it too.

“She’s going to stay, isn’t she?” Katniss whispered against my chest.

This was her worst fear, being separated from her sister. It was the fear that had driven her into the Games. The fear that had made her fight in the war. Katniss would do anything for her sister and now she was being forced to decide between her and our future.

“Do you want to stay if she does?” I asked instead, needing to clarify her hopes. The shaking of her head surprised me.

“I want to go back still. I want Finn to see home. Prim is safe here, she can help Annie with the pregnancy. Besides, Finnick would kill anyone who came within ten feet of her if I asked him to.” Katniss added with a small note of laughter in her voice.

It was in that moment that I realized how much she had grown. Not from her years as a youth in District 12 – I barely remembered that still – but as a woman who faced down a war, who survived poisoning and bullet wounds, who trekked across half the country to find safety in a village surrounded by water. Now she was a mother, a companion, a strong woman who didn’t shy away from love. She’d started to live without fear.

“Then we’ll still go, no matter what.” I confirmed and placed a kiss on her forehead.

* * *

District 12 had been rebuilt. But it was different now. The houses no longer had a severe difference between Merchant and Seam. They all stood proudly around the square before heading down in the direction of the Victor’s Village which had also been restored. You could see it from the train windows and the sight made my chest ache for the memory of my brothers.

“Are you ready?” Katniss asked lightly, directing her question towards Finn who was bouncing in his seat.

Just over two years old, he didn’t understand that we were coming home. He thought it was an adventure and he was excited. It was almost contagious.

Disembarking the train, Katniss took Finn by the hand while I grabbed our few pieces of luggage. We stood on the platform until the train pulled away, abandoning us in this place that we barely remembered.

“What do we do now?” Katniss hissed lowly, looking out towards the District while Finn played in the dirt off the platform. I stood by her side and shook my head. I almost wished that Haymitch had travelled with us instead of a week before us. He’d know what to do right now. Hell, we probably should have even told someone that we were coming back.

Christ, who would we have told? I felt foolish, standing here on this platform without so much as a plan for my family. I didn’t even think about where we would _sleep_ tonight, let alone live. I was such an idiot.

“’Mitsch!” Finn called out, pulling me from my floundering thoughts. My eyes shot to where my son was running across the dirt and towards Haymitch who was almost _jogging_.

“Sorry!” He called as he neared. I looked to Katniss who was scowling. “Sorry!” Haymitch huffed as he stopped, leaning his hands on his knees and sucking in air. “I meant to get here for the train. Let’s go.” He gasped and grabbed Finn up by his arms, swinging him into the air and onto his shoulders.

It was the most alive I’d ever seen him and the sight nearly made my heart burst.

Taking Katniss’ hand in mine while we shared the luggage, we followed Haymitch down the long dirt road to the Victor’s Village. The man seemed oblivious to us, more consumed in his favourite past time of harassing our son.

Over the years, Haymitch had almost sobered up. There was a long stint after we first arrived in District 4 that he spent his time fully drying out. We’d thought it had stuck until he disappeared for a few days in the middle of the summer.

Right around the Reaping.

When he’d come stumbling off the boat and back onto our island, we’d breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been captured. None of us had bothered to lecture him – we all had our own demons to deal with. Since then, he’d done well. He kept his drinking away from Finn which was the only stipulation Katniss and I had had. And he’d been an amazing Grandfather, filling the role of four parents who had died too soon.

The Village was no longer abandoned, that was easy to see. Gardens and vegetable patches now lined the lawns and yards that had once been vacant and empty. Children played on the pathways as parents sat on porches. With every house we walked by I could almost feel the conversations pause.

“Haymitch, where are we going?” Katniss asked. She could feel their gazes too.

“They kept a house for you two.” Was all Haymitch replied as he disappeared through a row of bushes. Katniss and I followed and nearly stopped dead when we saw Katniss’ old Victor’s house standing tall and groomed. Haymitch set loose Finn on the porch and turned back to us, a smile on his lips. “They knew you’d come back some day, so they kept your house for you. Sorry Bread Boy, Greasy Sae wanted your kitchen. But here it is, home sweet home.”

I tried to shut my mouth that was hanging open from shock, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get past the idea that instead of holding us for ransom, they’d held a place for us in their District. The idea floored me, and it floored Katniss too – I could see it in the way she set the luggage down and pulled me against her. I could feel it in the way her body shook as she held me.

“It’s good, Katniss,” I reassured, keeping my eye on Finn as he crawled along the porch. Katniss nodded against my chest and pulled away.

“Is the fence still down?” Was all she asked before stalking up the steps and towards our future.

* * *

I’m kneeling before her now, watching her. She watches me too, her eyes the same grey that used to watch me through the door to my room in District 13’s medical ward. Steady, intense.

But we are not who we once were. I am not the boy that forgot I loved her and she is not the girl who tried to let me go. I am her partner and she is mine.

I know what finally brought about this ceremony, this Toasting. It was the birth of Caraway, our daughter. Not three years after coming back to District 12 did she come along to keep her brother company. Just in time for Delly and Gale to return to the District after being released.

Their return was hard. Despite Hazelle Hawthorne welcoming them with open arms, you could easily see without saying a word, that Delly and Gale had gone in strong but been mulched down by the machine of the system.

Gale had returned first, having been let out when Paylor finally got around to giving him a pardon. Katniss had turned the television on for the first time in years after Sae told her about that broadcast. She’d watched every moment of it. Every first step he took into the crowd of reporters as he left prison for the first time in nearly ten years. I’d been jealous up until the moment when he stepped off the train and pulled her into a desperate hug. It had been a familial hug, like brother and sister.

We were the only ones to welcome him back to the District.

It was a few weeks later when Delly was released, walking alongside a disjointed Johanna who slipped past the press and disappeared for good. We’d watched that broadcast too, the second release coverage of the team who killed President Coin. Sitting on the couch with Katniss curled into me, I observed how Delly was thin, almost staggeringly so, when she first stepped into the camera’s light. The crowd bombarded her with questions and she waved them all away, refusing to acknowledge them.

Both Katniss and I learned then that it was Delly who was the mastermind of Coin’s assassination. She’d coordinated the attack when she learned of what was coming. She’d done it to save us.

When Delly stepped off the train, we weren’t the only ones there this time. Gale was there too, standing off to the side, silent. He barely talked now except to Katniss when they hunted on Sundays. He was the one to grab Delly up and together they crumpled to the ground, clinging to each other. Hanging onto each other, Katniss and I watched as Delly and Gale reunited.

Everyone was home.

Now it’s later in the day and both Cara and Finn are sound asleep upstairs. I’m sitting, watching, as Katniss stares into the flickering flames of the fire.

It was silently decided when we returned home from the station that I would bake the bread and we would Toast tonight. Even Haymitch had known at dinner, having smelt the fresh bread and commenting that I never baked in the afternoon heat. But that hadn’t stopped us.

It had only spurred us on.

“Are you ready?” I asked lowly, offering her the bread.

“I already feel like this has happened. That we’ve already made this promise.” Katniss responds quietly taking her side. I nod, knowing what she means. We’ve done this in reverse. We’ve already promised each other forever.

“It’d be a waste not to have this delicious bread though, don’t you think?” I joke and together we hold it over the fire, feeling the flames lick at our fingers. When the crust is browned, we pull back and break the bread in two, offering our piece to the other. “Stay with me?” I prompt quietly. It brings a smile to her lips.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it my lovelies. I hope you enjoyed it. Seeing as I leave the country in a week I really, really, wanted to get this tied off before I disappeared. I hope you enjoyed it and that you don't feel like I've just wasted hours of your time. If you have any questions etc, please feel free to message me or review, I'll do my best to respond before I go away. Much love and thank you for reading, lollercakes.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is a story that launched in "Collections" from a prompt. Apparently, people liked it - so here's some more.
> 
> katniss/peeta – hunger games – mockingjay au; peeta rescued from the capitol, not hijacked but of having no recollection of katniss at all
> 
> hotpiexoxo (hotpiexoxo ficathon)


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